Roses Are Red
by KayValo87
Summary: While investigating teenage heart attacks, John dates a woman he met on the street and Dean starts writing poetry about a girl from chess club ... and they don't even like them! Can they break the spell before 12 year old Sam is the only one left to hunt?
1. Chapter 1

Okay, here my next young Winchesters story. (I'm pretty sure this one is teenchester)

Anyway, I hope you all like this one as much as my last one "Divided, Not Conquered". :)

(BTW, I'm rating this K+ right now, but, depending on how the story plays out, I may have to change it later.)

* * *

**Chapter 1**

John sat in the quiet library, leafing through a few newspapers. He glanced down the table and studied the contrast between his two sons. Sam was eagerly scanning a large text book on Greek mythology while Dean was leisurely flipping through a classic car magazine. Twelve years old and he was already showing more potential at academics then his brother, though Dean could easily beat Sam in hand to hand combat … then again he was at least a foot taller. John glanced back down at the papers in front of him, looking for a new hunt, when a headline caught his eye.

"Teenage Heart Attack"

Curious, he skimmed the article and frowned.

"You find something?" Dean asked.

He nodded, without looking up.

"Patrick Chambers," he read, "a 16 year old from Arkansas, developed severe chest pains after moving into a newly built house in Springfield, Missouri, just a two hour drive from their old home in Berryville, Arkansas. He's the third teenage heart attack this year."

He felt Dean lean over his shoulder.

"Could be something," Dean commented. "So, we going to Springfield or Berryville?"

"Berryville."

Sam gave his dad a puzzled look.

"But, the guy died in Springfield …"

"Yes," John handed the article to his youngest and pointed to the last paragraph. "but all three victims came from Berryville."

He watch Sam's concentration change to concern as he read.

"Uh … Dad … I'm not sure we should take this case."

Dean stopped stacking up their books and shot Sam a weird look.

"Why not?"

"Did you see the boys ages? Two of them were sixteen."

"Ah Sammy," Dean groaned, "I'm not going to have a freaking heart attack."

"How do YOU know?"

"Because, awesome people don't have heart attacks."

"But, Dean-"

John cut him off with a stern glare.

"No buts, Sam. We leave tonight … ALL of us."

"Yes sir." He grumbled, gathering his books and taking them back to the shelf.

John sighed. Sam's new habit of questioning his decisions did not bode well for the coming teenage years, but he had to admit, it did worry him bringing Dean on this hunt. The boys that died had been popular and athletic, not unlike his own son. While he stacked the various papers he had strewn about the table, John felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll be fine, Dad."

John nodded.

"Lets go hunt down this evil son of a b&^*%."

**~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~**

Dean unlocked the door and carefully stepped over the salt line before holding the door for his still moping little brother.

"Would you quit sulking already!"

He mumbled something that sounded a a lot like "I'm not sulking" … that or "a nostril king".

"Right," Dean nodded, "then get your 'not sulking' a&$ moving. Dad's only going to be out for an hour and we have to be packed before then."

Sam nodded and started shoving the few belongs he had unpacked into his backpack. It only took the boys fifteen minutes until every thing was put away and ready for their dad's return. The two sat on the edge of the beds, flipping through the tv channels, neither one really paying attention to what was on. Sam just silently stared at the floor and Dean found himself checking on him every five minutes. He was used to Sam being upset about moving, but he had never given him the silent treatment for this long before. Dean checked his watch. They had about twenty minutes before their dad got back with supplies. If he didn't want to road trip with a mime, Dean was going to have to fix this, and fast.

"Seriously dude, nothing's gonna happen to me?"

Sam looked up.

"You don't know that! Those boys were just like YOU. What if this thing goes after you too? What if you …" He hung his head, long bangs hiding his face. "I can't loose you Dean … I just can't."

Dean took a deep breath. He hated these awkward chick-flick moments … but not as much as he hated seeing his brother in any kind of pain.

"Sammy … NOTHING is going to happen. Once we get on this thing's trail, it won't even have time to give me heartburn."

Sam swallowed and looked up at him, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Besides," Dean added with a grin, "you really think Dad would let some supernatural freak give me a heart attack? Please … that would leave him stuck with YOU."

Sam glared and swung a pillow at his head.

"Shut up, JERK!"

Dean blocked and manged to get the pillow out of his brother's grasp, nailing him in the side.

"Make me, b$*%^."

Sam grabbed the pillow from the other bed and the war was on. The two battled around the room, pounding each other mercilessly …

"What the h$&^ are you two doing!?"

They froze and saw their dad glaring from the doorway. Sam and Dean dropped their pillows and exchanged glances, both knowing that the next words spoken were most critical to John's mood for, at least, the next hour.

"Um …" Dean grinned, "we're done packing."

**~~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam stared up at his new school, trying to ignore the feeling that had been nagging at him since his dad took this hunt.

"Sammy?"

He looked up into his brother's concerned face.

"I'm okay, Dean."

"Riiiiight … well if you need me, you know where to find me."

He pointed over to the high school, which was, thankfully, right next door.

"I'll be fine. See ya after school."

Sam spent the next several hours attempting to become invisible, but even this early in the year, he was easily identified as the new kid. On top of that, he still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He breathed a sigh of relief when the final bell rung and hurried next door to find Dean.

It didn't take him long, he just looked for the group of cheerleaders. Sure enough, his brother was in the middle. Sam was halfway across the yard when Dean caught his eye and subtly motioned for him to wait a few more minutes. Sam rolled his eyes, but complied. He found a half wall close to Dean, but not close enough to hear the conversation. This wasn't as much respect for his brothers privacy, as it was an attempt to keep his lunch down … hearing his brother flirting wasn't high on the list of thing he liked to do. So, Sam settled for going over his math homework. He had just begun his chapter review, when he heard a sigh to his right. Looking up, he saw a girl, a few years older then him. Her frizzy, light brown hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, she wore a white blouse, a plaid knee length skirt, thick glasses, and her eyes were, unmistakably, locked on Dean.

"He's so … amazing."

Sam rolled his eyes and looked back to his book.

"Do you know who that is?"

It took him a minute before Sam realized she was talking to him.

"Oh … um … that's my brother … Dean."

"Dean." She breathed, "sounds so … daring."

Kill me now.

"I must have him." She declared.

Sam froze and slowly turned his head towards the girl. One look told him she didn't have a snowballs chance in h&^$ of catching his brothers attention. But Sam didn't want to hurt her feelings, so …

"Don't bother," Sam whispered, "he's shallow, rude, insensitive, … and … he snores."

She gave Sam a small smile and patted his cheek.

"It's sweet of you to try and make me feel better, but I didn't make captain of the chess team by being timid. I won't only date your brother … I'll become his girlfriend."

Boy, she's sure aiming for the stars.

"Well, we won't be in town that long …"

"Sweety, I appreciate that you are trying to help, but I know a thing or two about boys. You'll see."

Dean choose that moment to walk over.

"Hey Sammy, am I interrupting?"

He cast an amused glance between Sam and the chess club girl.

"Hi Dean." She giggled.

Sam bit back a laugh as his brothers expression turned into an uncomfortable smile.

"Um … hi?"

He grabbed Sam by shoulder, pulling him off the wall.

"Come on, you know Dad doesn't like it when we are late."

Yeah right, like Dad was even at the hotel. But, since this girl was starting to creep him out too, Sam played along.

"Yeah, just let me grab my stuff."

Snatching his backpack, Sam turned to see their way blocked by the girl.

"My name is Doreen," she smiled sweetly, "kinda matches Dean, don't you think?"

Wow, could she be any more obvious? Dean just stared at her, turned Sam around, and headed the opposite direction. Sam was glad for all their training, otherwise he never would have been able to keep up with his brother's quick pace. But after they were almost a mile away, Sam was pretty sure they had lost her, but Dean didn't seem to notice.

"Uh … Dean?" He said tentatively. "Isn't our hotel the OTHER way?"

"Shut up."

**~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~**

John left the doctor's office and loosened his tie. Patrick Chambers had recived a full phisical just a few months prior to his death, and his doctor was completely baffled on how his heart could have given out. The more John learned about Patrick, the more the kid seemed exactly like Dean. He was popular with the ladies, a trained fighter, armature mechanic, exercised several times a week, ate only healthy foods … well, maybe maybe he wasn't EXACTLY like Dean. But John was starting to wonder if he should have listened to Sam and taken care of this one himself.

The sound of squealing tires shook him from his thoughts and John looked up. A car had taken the corner too fast and was now speeding down the street, right towards a woman who was to preoccupied with searching her purse to notice. Moving on instinct, John grabbed the woman, pulling her out of the path of the speeding car just as it passed. He made a mental note of the license plate out of habit, before turning his attention to the woman was had just gone limp in his arms.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?"

Her hazel eyes fluttered open.

"Oh! I'm- I'm sorry." John helped the woman find her footing. "I … I don't know what happened. I was just looking for my keys and ..."

She stared wide eyed at John.

"You … you saved my life. How can I ever repay you?"

"No need. Just be more careful next time."

He turned to head back to the Impala.

"Wait!" She grabbed his arm to keep him from leaving. "At least let me buy you a cup of coffee."

"I don't really have time right now …"

"Oh," she looked down at his left hand, "your wife is probably waiting."

"I don't have a wife." He replied, without thinking.

A second later, John had a feeling he shouldn't have said that.

"Really? That's too bad."

She smiled, tucking a loose strand of her long auburn hair behind her ear.

"I'm Sandra, by the way. Sandra Reed."

"John." He said, excepting her outstretched hand.

"So … can I treat you to dinner then? I mean," she blushed, "it's not everyday you meet a knight in shining armor."

Wait … was she flirting?

"Um … I have to go get my boys from school."

"Oh!" her eyes lit up, "you have sons?"

"Yeah …"

"How old are they?" She asked when it was clear he wasn't going to continue.

"Sixteen and twelve."

"Sounds like you wouldn't need to get a babysitter …"

Okay, now he was just wasting time.

"Look, Sandra, my boys are waiting for me. I have to go."

He climbed into the Impala before she had a chance to stop him again. Checking his watch, he estimated Dean and Sam would be at the hotel soon, and was surprised a few minutes later when he saw them only a few blocks from school.

"Boys." He called, pulling up beside them.

"Yes sir?" Dean answered.

"Is there a reason you two are not at the hotel?"

Sam stifled a laugh and Dean glared down at him.

"We were held up at school." Dean replied, with a look that dared his brother to argue.

"By what?" John asked in a warning tone.

Remembering the amount of times Dean got detention on his first day, then again, it hadn't happened in over a year.

"Dean's new girlfriend." Sam snickered.

Dean smacked him in the back of the head.

"Shut up!"

John raised an eyebrow.

"You can tell me all about it on the ride back."

Dean and Sam climbed in and Sam launched into a detailed account of the girl at school. Doreen almost sounded like a younger version of Sandra. THAT encounter, however, was one he would keep to himself.

*** * ***

The witch peered passed her curtain at her two new clients. She could almost taste their life force already. She stepped out in the entry of her shop, smiling warmly.

"Hello, I am Madam Majeeda."

She shook hands with the two as they introduced themselves.

"Who is first?"

"She was here before me." The older of the two admitted.

"Of course." Majeeda motioned back the way she came. "Go in and have a seat, we will begin shortly."

The teen nodded and nervously walked behind the beaded curtain. Majeeda turned back at the other woman.

"I will be with you in just a moment."

"Take your time. It will be worth it if I can land John." She sighed. "He's living proof chivalry isn't dead."

Majeed smiled, thinking about how wonderful guys made her life so much sweeter. Taking her leave, she went back to the room were the teenager was waiting.

"So," She began, setting in her chair, "I understand you are interested in my specialty?"

"Yes, Madam Majeeda."

She pulled a pamphlet out of her backpack.

"It says here that your love potions can make it so a boy can't live without me."

"I must warn you it is a long process, but don't you worry … I will have him eating out of your hand in no time. So, who is the lucky boy?"

The girl smiled shyly, showing off her silver braces.

"A new boy at my school … his name is Dean."

* * *

So, what do you think of the begining? (Sorry if it was kinda slow, I had to get the set up out of the way.)

Also, this is the first story that I had a section form the POV of a non-Winchester. (I hope that didn't confuse anyone.)

I'll finish up the next part and get it posted as soon as possible.

NOTE: Remeber that it was Sam who said they shouldn't do the case, and John a nd Dean said it was okay. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry, I forgot to say these in the last chapter. (oops)

NOTE: I was a preschool Sunday school teacher for over half a decade. I don't swear... however, some of the charaters do. I have found a way to compromise without breaking my standards. So, if you see a statement like "what the h#$" use you imagination to figure out the word. :)

DISCLAIMER: Unless you count the dvds, I still do not on the Winchesters

Anyways, here's the next part ...

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Dean was leaning against the wall of Sam's building. He wanted to get going before his new stalker showed up, but his brother was late. Dean was just about to go into the middle school and find Sam himself, when he finally emerged.

"Dude, what took you so long?"

"I was talking to my English teacher, getting an extension on a paper that was due today."

"Sam!" Dean looked at him in mock surprise, "YOU didn't do your homework?"

He easily blocked the fist that Sam swung at his side.

"Shut up. For your information, the rest of the class had a week to write it, and I only got here yesterday."

Now Dean was generally surprised.

"And they're still making you write it?"

"No, I want to do it." Sam explained, "I just need some more time."

Dean shook his head. Only his little brother would ask for extra homework.

"Your such a geek, Sammy."

He smirked at his brother's glare, but frowned when Sam's face turned to a mischievous grin.

"Hey look," he whispered, "it's your girlfriend."

Dean groaned and shoved his little brother forward.

"Keep walking Sammy."

He had manage to avoid Doreen all day, he would hate to ruin that now that he was almost home free.

"De-ean!" a sing-song voice called.

Too late. Dean quickened his pace, but she soon caught up to them. Was she captain of the chess club or the track team?

"I noticed we are in the same science class. Maybe we can be partners for the science fair."

He would rather EAT his science project. He turned to her, ready to set things straight.

"I'd love too."

Dean froze … did he really just say that?

"Great!" She almost squealed. "I'll talk to Mr. Gavet in the morning, so he can put us on the list. We'll start the planning stage tomorrow. See ya then."

Dean dumbly nodded as she ran off, still trying to figure out what had possessed him to agree to be Doreen Swinburn's science partner. The sound of his brother's singing brought him back to reality, and he suddenly regretted hassling him about his homework.

"Dean and Doreen sitting in a tree, K-I-"

That's as far as he got before Dean chased him all the way back to the hotel. He would have to thank their dad for the long distance training … right after he got through pummeling his little brother.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~John~~~~~~~~~~~~**

John moved quickly through the aisles. He hated shopping, but the local mini mart was cheaper then getting take out everyday. It wasn't easy hustling spending money at the local bar. He was just grabbing a box of lucky charms when he heard a familiar voice.

"John?"

Crap. He turned to see Sandra pushing her own shopping cart towards him.

"Isn't it weird how people run into each other at the supermarket?"

John briefly wondered if she had been following him, but quickly dismissed the thought. He would have noticed if she was.

"You know," Sandra suggested, "they are having a really good sale on turnips in aisle eight."

He gave her a skeptical look.

"They're really good for you," she added, "full of nutrients. I also have a wonderful recipe for carrot turnip casserole … if you'd like."

That would go over GREAT with the boys. He was lucky if he got Dean to eat a SALAD.

"Thanks, but I think I'll be fine."

He watched as her eye swept over the canned food, instant meals, and cereal of his cart.

"Um … John, no offense, but these are hardly the foods for growing boys. Why don't you let me cook you dinner sometime?"

That's just what he needed, a stranger trying to take care of them.

"I think we can manage."

"Then …" she smiled shyly, "maybe you and I can have dinner … tonight?"

He sighed and tried to end the conversation.

"Sounds great."

John paused. Did he just agree to go out with a woman he just met?

"I'm so glad! I know a great Italian place I'm sure you'll just love."

While John was wondering how she could possibly know what he would 'just love', she pulled a pen and scrap of paper from her purse.

"Here's my address, pick me up at seven?"

John nodded absentmindedly while he studied the address. Next thing he knew he was alone in the isle.

He opened up the hotel room door to see Dean and Sam silently watching tv. The older of the two slouched in the corner of the couch, glaring to the action movie on the small set while the younger warily kept his distance, opting instead to watch from his bed.

"What's with you two?"

Sam glanced at Dean who mumbled something, sinking lower into the couch.

"Dean."

Just as he knew he would, Dean sat up and answered.

"I'm doing the science fair with Doreen Swinburn."

"Isn't she that girl you don't like?"

"Yeah." he grumbled, slumping back against the cushions.

John started to put away his groceries.

"Can't you ask for a different partner?"

"Dean's the one who agreed." Sam added, ducking the throw pillow that flew his way.

"I plead temporary insanity. Tomorrow I'll ask Mr. Gaven to take me off the list."

"No you won't"

He looked Dean right in the eye before he could protest.

"Like it or not, you gave this girl your word. You're doing the science fair … unless we finish the hunt before it anyway."

Dean jumped over the couch and snatched up one of Sam's text books.

"Hey!" he protested, trying to take it back.

Dean held it out of reach.

"Don't you want to finish this hunt before more people die?"

"Yes, but do you think we could do it without my English book?"

Dean tossed the book back on Sam's bed and pulled out their usual research materials. Checking his watch, John cleared his throat.

"You two are going to have to cover the research tonight."

"Do you have a lead?" Dean asked hopefully.

"No …"

"Then where are you going?" Sam wondered.

"Um … dinner."

The boys exchanged puzzled glances.

"Alone?" Dean asked.

"Um … no."

"A contact?" Sam guessed.

"No."

The boys continued to stare at him.

"If you must know, I have … a date."

Dean's mood darkened while Sam's eyes went wide with shock.

"YOU!? You have a DATE!?"

"It's not THAT surprising." John grumbled.

He had done his share of flirting on hunts, it was part of the job. But usually he liked a girl before he took her to dinner … and he never dated anyone when his boys were around. He glanced over at Dean and knew exactly what he was thinking, and he didn't blame him. H#&^, he agreed with him. He was remembering Mary, his one and only mother … a woman who could never be replaced by ANYONE.

"It's just dinner, Dean."

"Whatever."

Dean slouched back on the couch, seemingly absorbed in the tv movie.

**~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam finished up his homework, occasionally glancing over at his brother. Dean had been quietly researching for over an hour now without even a single sarcastic comment. Sam didn't know what was bothering him more, being paired with Doreen for the science fair or their dad going on a date. It might just be because he was twelve, or maybe the fact he didn't remember his mom, but Sam didn't mind the idea of their dad taking this woman out to dinner. Of course he really couldn't picture his dad eating anywhere beside a diner or truck stop, but it would be nice for John to be able to have a relaxing evening for once. Then again, it would be nice to MEET this woman. He wondered what she looked like … what her hobbies were … whether or not she was human …

"Dad, you DID check and make sure she was human, right?"

"What?" John called from the bathroom.

"A little late to be asking now, Sam." Dean muttered.

John came out and doubled checked the loaded shotgun they kept in the corner.

"Find all the similarities you can between the victims."

You mean, Sam thought bitterly, besides the fact they are all like Dean.

"Yes sir." Dean responded, returning his dad's gaze.

John nodded and grabbed his coat.

"I'll look over your notes when I get back, hopefully we'll have a few leads."

"Um … Dad?" Sam asked, looking over John's six foot two form.

"What is it, Sam?"

"I … I don't know much about dating, but … aren't you suppose to dress nice?"

Dean masked a laugh with a cough and pretended to focus on the text book in front of him. John didn't seem as amused.

"Believe it or not, Sam, I HAVE done this before."

"Yeah, I know … it's just … you look like your leaving for a hunt …"

Sam saw the smirk cross his brother's face while John looked down at his outfit, grabbed his duffel, and went back into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, dressed in a, slightly wrinkled, button up shirt and clean jeans, John grabbed his coat and keys, barking a few last instructions.

"There's some canned soup in the cupboard, extra ammo for the shotgun is in my bag, double check the salt lines after I leave-"

"Dad, we know the drill," Dean stated.

"Yeah Dad," Sam added, "go have fun."

John nodded, but something about the look on his face told Sam he wasn't going to follow his son's advice. Dean looked up from his book just as their dad reached the door.

"Curfew's at eleven. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

With one last glare, John left.

**~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~**

John sat in the restaurant thinking of all the things he'd would rather be doing. He could track a wendigo to it's lair, take down a werewolf, exercise a demon, and salt a burn a corpse, all without flinching, but couldn't manage a single dinner conversation? Not that he had to do much talking, Sandra was happy to tell him every detail of her life. Among other things, he had learned Sandra had one sister who lived with her husband and three children in Florida, she has two cats named Gumby and Sugar Bell, she loved romance novels, and she had always wanted to take ice skating lessons.

"John," she pouted, "I've been pouring my heart out for over an hour. And you have barley said two words."

He shrugged.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Why don't you tell me about your kids?"

"What about them?"

She let out an exasperated sigh.

"Well you can start with their NAMES."

"Dean and Sam."

"Those are nice names." She smiled. "What are they like?"

"Teenage boys."

John almost smiled at the look of annoyance that crossed Sandra's face.

"I'd appreciate a bit more detail." She prodded. "Do they play sports? Are they in any clubs? Do they get along?"

John sighed, seeing he might as well say something to get her off his back.

"Dean likes cars, Sam likes school."

"That's great. What subjects does Sam like?"

What subjects did he like? John never paid that much attention.

"Um … English?"

"You don't sound very sure."

"Look," John grumbled, "do you really want to sit here and talk about my sons homework?"

"Yes." Sandra stated. "I want to learn everything about you and your sons."

Not gonna happen. John checked his watch.

"It's getting late. I probably should get back."

"John, it's not even 9:00 yet. Are you that worried about your boys that you can't leave them for one night?"

If she only knew how capable Dean and Sam were …

"It's not that." He grumbled.

"Then what?"

"I am working on a job right now and need to be up early."

She nodded in understanding and motioned to a passing waiter to bring the check.

"So … what do you do?"

"I'm … sorta like a trouble shooter."

"What does that mean?"

"I fix people's problems."

The waiter arrived with the check and John debated on wither he should pay with a card or cash, deciding on the latter in case Sandra happened to see the name on the card was Ralph W. Emerson, the first one Sam picked the alias for.

"That's nice of you. So you are, like, a handyman then?"

That works.

"Yep."

"I love a man who is good with his hands."

John took that as his cue to leave and grabbed the change, leaving just enough for a tip.

"We better get going."

**~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~**

Dean rubbed his eyes. He needed to take a break until the words stopped blending together. Heading to the kitchen for a coke he looked over his brother. Sam was absorbed in a thick text book, making note of every creature capable of causing a heart attack.

"Are you gonna alphabetize them too?"

Sam glared at him but didn't answer. A second later, Dean leaned over his shoulder and burst out laughing.

"Shut up." Sam grumbled, trying to cover the growing list. "I didn't do it on purpose. The book was alphabetized."

"Whatever, Sammy."

Dean heard the tell tale rumble of the Impala's engine, announcing his dad's return. John entered a moment later, dropping his coat on a chair and grabbing a beer from the fridge.

"Dad, I know you don't date much, but seriously … 9:15?" Dean asked, checking his watch,

"Middle schoolers stay out later then this."

He shot him a cold glance and sat down at the table.

"What did you find while I was out."

Dean sighed inwardly and grabbed a stack of newspaper clippings.

"Two of the boys died three days after they left Berryville, the third lasted twice as long."

"Which one was that?" John asked, taking the pile.

"Richard Perry. A sophomore from Berryville High." Dean explained, pointing out the article. "He died in Eureka Springs after going on a camping trip with friends towards the end of the summer."

"Eureka Springs?" John pulled over the map of Arkansas. "That's only twelve miles from here."

"Think we should we check it out?"

John nodded.

"We'll leave after school tomorrow. It wouldn't hurt to go to Beaver Lake either, it's less then an hour from here."

Dean glanced over and saw Sam had tensed up. Must still be freaked out over this whole heart attack thing. Dean didn't want to sit this hunt out, but if it helped his brother …

"Hey Dad," he asked casually, "do you think Sam and I could stick around here and do more research?"

John shook his head.

"No, I need you with me to talk to the teenagers."

Dean watched Sam visibly try to relax, and forced himself to suppress his own frustration at the situation. He was suppose to be the one worrying about Sam, not the other way around.

"Okay," he went for a new approach, distraction, "then do you think we can go swimming when we get to the lake?"

"As long as you don't spend the whole time trying to pick up girls and actually get some work done, it's fine."

Sam seemed to cheer up at the thought and Dean put a hand on his shoulder.

"You hear that Sam," he said seriously, "you can't spend the whole time picking up girls."

He shoved Dean's hand aside.

"Jerk." He muttered.

"B*%$#."

*** * ***

"I'm sorry for coming in so late, Madam Majeeda."

The witch smiled at her client across the table. She was thrilled that she had returned so soon, but she would have to be careful not to take enough of her life force that she would notice.

"It's perfectly fine. I am opened until 10:00pm anyway. So, how did your date go with John?"

Sandra sighed.

"He is such a nice man … but he is so guarded."

"Would you like him to be more open?"

"I would like it if he would include me in his life more. At least let me meet his sons and get to know them all better."

Majeeda smiled, relived that it was only a minor change, easy to do.

"You want him to treat you like part of the family?"

"Exactly."

The witch reached across the table and took the woman's hands in hers.

"Don't worry, in a few days he will be begging you to spend time with them."

* * *

I hoe that chapter was a little better.

Please let me know what you think. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you fo all the reviews. I know I don't personally answer them very much (I can count the number on times on one hand) but I REALLY do appreciate each and every one.

I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Sam got all the books he would need for the weekend out of his locker as fast as he could. Not only did John want to leave for the lake as soon as possible, but Dean wanted to leave the SCHOOL as soon as possible. He was wondering if Doreen had been able to corner his brother yet when a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind. Instinctively he grabbed the person's wrist and tried to twist it, but the other person was faster and manged to take back his hand, spinning Sam around at the same time.

"Nice reflexes."

"Dean," Sam grumbled, "what are you doing in here."

He shrugged.

"Just wanted to see if you needed any help."

Sam smirked at him and closed his locker.

"Hiding from your girlfriend in your little brother's school, that's sad dude."

"She is NOT my girlfriend."

"That's not what I heard."

Dean's eyes narrowed.

"From where?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, Luke, a kid in my history class who's sister is in chess club, said that Doreen told the whole team that you two were a couple."

Dean groaned.

"I hope you set him straight."

"Of course I did."

"Thanks."

"You think I WANT people knowing the captain of the chess team will be my sister in law?"

Sam was glad no teachers had been there to see them as Dean chased him out of the building and down the street. At least this way they wouldn't have to worry about running into Doreen. He was pretty winded by the time he reached the hotel, but it was worth it. Luckily John was already there, so he would have to worry about retaliation … at least until they got back from the lake.

**~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean surveyed the lake. Sun, sand, and lots of girls in bathing suites. It was a perfect place to forget your problems … and a certain chess club captain.

"Okay, Dean," John said, putting his forestry service badge in his pocket, "I want you to talk to the teenagers around here and find out if any of them knew the victims."

Dean's eyes wondered to a group of girls, about his age, sunbathing.

"Sure thing, Dad. I will find out everything they know."

And then some, he thought to himself. He had barely taken two steps when John gave farther instructions.

"And keep an eye on your brother."

So close, and yet …

"Daaaad." Sam whined for him. "I don't need Dean babysitting me."

"He's right Dad." Dean added, without taking his eyes of the bikini clad beauties. "He's old enough to look after himself for an hour or two."

"This isn't up for negotiation. I'm going to talk to the park administrators before I take a look around. We will meet back here in two hours. Stay together."

"Yes sir." they said together.

As their dad walked away, Dean looked longingly at the girls. No way he could work his magic with his kid brother in tow, of course Sam didn't look too happy about it either.

"Okay squirt, how about you go play in the sand or something while I get some intel?"

Sam glared at him.

"Play in the sand? What am I, FIVE?"

Dean just shrugged and dodged the fist that was aimed for his side. Instead of the beach, Sam headed for the tree closest to the group of girls. That worked. Dean approached the girls, studying them closely. There were four, two blonds, a redhead, and one with long jet black braids. One of the blonds had short straight hair and a lime green suite, while the other wore pink and had pulled her hair into twin French braids that reached the middle of her back. The red head had shoulder length curls, a sapphire blue suite, and large sunglasses. The fourth had a white bikini, in contrast to her ebony skin tone.

"Hello ladies."

"Hi, I'm Mindy." the redhead said softly, eying him over her glasses.

He flashed her the same smile that had won over many a cheerleader.

"Name's Dean."

The blond with the short hair held up her hand.

"I'm Amy," she gestured to the other girls, "this is Stacy, and Gina."

"Please," Mindy smiled, "join us."

Don't mind if I do, Dean thought to himself as he took a seat between, Gina and Amy.

"You new around here?" Stacy asked, leaning around Amy.

It took Dean all of two seconds to notice that they were twins.

"Yeah, just moved here."

"Well, you are going to love it." Gina declared.

"Already am." He said with a grin.

They were interrupted but a gaging sound.

"What is that?" Mindy asked, looking around.

Dean didn't have to look far, just up. Sam was directly above him perched on a thick tree branch.

"Who is that?" Amy asked, noticing Sam.

"Ignore him." Dean mumbled, "he was just leaving."

"Dad said we have to stay together." he called from the tree.

"Dad?" Gina asked. "Is that your brother."

"Unfortunately." Dean half growled.

"He's so CUTE!" Stacy exclaimed. "Just like a little teddy bear."

Even from the ground Dean could see his brother's face turn red.

"Yup, that's our Sammy, cute as a button."

He grinned at the death glare raining down on him. Just goes to show you, little brother, payback is a b&^*%.

**~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam pulled himself a branch or two higher, but couldn't escape the voices below him. "Cute as a button"? What a jerk. Luckily, Dean was able to divert the girls attention away from him and on to other topics. Sam had to admit, Dean was very good at subtle interrogation … but that didn't mean Sam wanted to spend his afternoon stuck in a tree listening to it.

"Hey, isn't this the place where that kid had a heart attack?"

Oh yeah, way to be subtle Dean.

"Yeah," Stacy confirmed, "it's so SAD."

"Did you know him?"

"Not well," Amy answered, "he came with a bunch of other kids from Berryville to celebrate the end of summer."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Karma." Gina stated. "It's a real b#&% sometimes."

Sam lowered himself down so he could hear better.

"Karma doesn't give people heart attacks." Mindy scoffed.

"Yes is does." Gina argued. "That's what killed my Uncle Rani. He cheated one two many people with those rotten cars of his and it came back to bite him."

"Gina, your uncle was 62 years old." Stacy pointed out.

"Doesn't matter, karma can get you at any age. Look at Mr. Lamport, Mr. Dale, and Tom."

"PLEASE tell me you aren't talking about Tom and Jerry." Amy groaned.

"Can cats can have karma?" Stacy asked.

Sam made a mental note to check out the other names, even Uncle Rani. It might be nothing, but better safe then sorry. He was however pretty sure the cartoon character was not involved.

"Well," Dean prompted, "what did this guy do?"

"He played a really mean prank on this one girl." Amy explained. "I don't know the details, but she went home."

"See," Gina added, "Karma."

After that the conversation moved onto other things. About ten minute later, Sam dropped to the ground just in time to see Dean pocket the list of the phone numbers he had acquired.

"I like this place." He grinned.

"Yeah … next time keep the cheesy pick up lines to a minimum, okay. Trees don't come equipped with air sickness bags."

"Ah, your just jealous."

Sam just rolled his eyes and headed to the next tree.

**~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Pocketing his eleventh phone number, Dean headed back to the tree where he left Sam reading his math book. Good thing most of the hot girls were in the sun, far from the perch of little brothers. Speaking of little brothers … Dean's mood darkened instantly when he took in the scene at the tree. Sam was up against two jock types, one of which was holding a football while the other held a text book above his head. Sam was glaring up at them and had sand and dirt all down his right side. That was all Dean could see from where he was standing, but it was more then enough for big brother mode to kick in to high gear.

Making his way over to the group, Dean looked for clues to tell him what had happened.

"Only a loser does homework at the lake," the one with the football stated. "Consider this an intervention."

"Just give it back."

"Or what?" The other dangled the math book just out of Sam's reach. "You'll cry?"

As he got closer Dean could see Sam was forcing himself not to cry, but it had nothing to do with loosing his math homework. A large purple bruise was starting to form on the left side of his face and he was holding his right arm. Putting the pieces together only fueled his anger. The b%s*a#ds had knocked Sam out of the tree with that d#*^ football.

Stepping up behind them, the first thing he did what take back the text book. This action immediately got the two bullies attention … as well as Sam.

"Dean, it's fine."

"Doesn't look fine to me."

Dean caught the look in Sam's eyes and knew they were thinking of the same thing. This was eerily similar to a situation a few years back, only that time was in school with three bullies and they had taken Sam's knife … it also was the start of one long nightmare that almost tore their family apart. He would do anything to keep history from repeating itself, but that did not include letting a couple of creeps walk all over his little brother.

"Dean," Sam pleaded, "just go."

"Yeah Dean," the jerk with the football smirked, "just go while you still can."

Dean sized them up. Both were his hight, slightly stockier, and, Dean would bet, that they didn't know a right cross from a left hook.

"Funny," he grinned, "I was just about to say the same thing to you."

The other stepped directly in front of Dean, so close their noses were almost touching.

"You think you could take us?"

"Actually … I was thinking you need a breath mint."

The jock growled and took a swing.

~~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~

John took one last look around Richard's Perry's campsite. There was no sign of any supernatural activity of any kind. So how does a healthy sixteen year old kid up and have a heart attack? Checking his watch, he saw that he had just under an hour before he had to meet up with the boys. Might as well head back, maybe he could question a few people before they went back to the car.

The hike back to a lot out of him and John made a mental note to up his work out regime. A couple of miles in the woods shouldn't even wind him, but he had to stop and rest halfway through. John cursed under his breath, forcing himself to continue down the trail. He didn't have time to be sick, not there was a job to do. He was almost back to the Impala went he heard people yelling. Heading that way he was able to start picking out individual voices, not that he recognized any except … Sam!

Adrenaline kicking in he raced toward the crowd that had gathered under a tree. He almost cursed again when he saw what was causing all the commotion. Dean was delivering a well placed roundhouse to one boys hip, knocking him to his knees. A second boy was approaching Dean from the side and received a punch to the face that more then likely broke his nose. Scanning the crowd for his youngest, he found Sam to his left and John knew what had started the fight. Allowing Dean to deal with the two boys, John took Sam by the arm, letting go when he saw pain flash across his son's bruised face.

"Dad?"

He looked surprised to see him.

"What happened?" John growled.

Sam looked back at Dean in time to see him flatten one of the boys and turn back to the one with the bloody nose.

"Sam …"

"They knocked me out of the tree," he mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd of teenagers, "and they stole my math book."

What the h#*$ was he doing in a tree?

"Where was your brother?"

Sam looked at the ground. John didn't know who he was most angry at. Dean finished the fight, picked a text book off the ground and came over to them.

"Here's your- Dad?"

John glared and headed toward the Impala, knowing his boys were right behind him. Once there he turned to Dean.

"Didn't I tell you to stay with him?"

"But Dad-" Sam protested, but John silenced him with a stern look.

"This is why I give you instructions, so things like this don't happen. What if it hadn't been a couple of jocks? What if it had been something worse?"

Dean stayed quiet, keeping eye contact and his face calm.

"Next time I give you orders I expect them to be followed."

"Yes sir."

John nodded and went to the trunk to grab the first aid kit.

"Good form on the roundhouse kick, but a jab isn't going to do more them break the guys nose. Unless you want a long fight, go for the cross."

Dean smiled as John started tending to his bang up knuckles.

"Thanks, Dad."

John returned the smile and began patching him up. Dean was becoming quiet the fighter and he was proud of his son for standing up for his brother. When he was done, John turned to examine Sam, but stopped when a sharp pain shot through his chest.

*** * ***

Madam Majeeda smoothed the black cloth that covered her small table and smiled at her young client.

"So, how are things going with Dean?"

Doreen sighed and looked down at her hands.

"I thought spending time with him was suppose to make it get better, make him like me more."

Uh-oh, if she changes her mind there goes her life force.

"Don't worry, child." She said in a soothing voice. "Like I said, love takes time to grow."

"But the way he acts …"

Reaching across the table, the witch placed her hand over the teen's.

"What can I do to make it better?"

"I just wish he was more romantic, you know. Did sweet things like give me flowers and write me poems."

Suppressing the urge to sigh in relief, Majeeda's smile widened.

"He will, dear. Trust me … he will."

* * *

I have the next chapter ready and will post it very soon. :)

(I just want to see how peole like this chapter first.)


	4. Chapter 4

Here ya go ...

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Sam frowned when he noticed that John wasn't breathing right. The last time he acting like this was after a two mile run.

"Jeeze, Dad," Dean said, "you getting old or something?"

Though the comment was lighthearted, Dean looked concerned. John just ignored him and started to check Sam's arm.

"Dad? … You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Thought he was trying to hide it, Sam could see pain etched into John's face. Something was VERY wrong.

"Dad-"

"I said I'm fine."

Sam looked over to his brother for help, but instead his panic level went through the roof. Dean was leaning against a tree a few feet away rubbing his chest. Based on the labored breathing and twisted expression, it look like Dean might be having a …

"Dean!"

Dean gave him a weak smile.

"I'm okay Sammy."

Sam looked back and forth between his dad and brother. This couldn't be happening, not to both of them, not now. Forcing himself to focus, Sam looked back and forth between the members of his family. John seemed better off … or better at masking how bad he was feeling … but Dean looked like he would collapse at any moment. Opening the back door of the Impala, Sam rushed over to Dean. Refusing the help, Dean pushed away from the tree.

"Sam, I think I can make it four feet." His lopsided grin widened. "And don't think I'm letting you take shot gun just because of a little thing like-"

"A heart attack." Sam finished.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sam … what did I-"

He stopped short, a grimace flashing across his face.

"Dean."

Even panting, John's order was clear. Dean nodded and climbed into the back. Once his brother was secure, Sam turned to help his dad … and had the same luck he had with Dean.

"Get in the car." John grunted, moving towards the driver's door, "I'll be okay."

Staying with him anyway, Sam waited until the door was almost closed before running around to the passenger side. It was only after they had been driving for ten minutes, with Sam checking on each of them every thirty seconds, that a thought suddenly occurred to Sam … what if they got so bad that they couldn't drive? He was only twelve, the last time he drove a car was at Bobby's at the was only fifteen feet. No way he could bring his family to safety. With one look at his pale brother, Sam shoved the thought from his mind. They would cross that bridge when they came to it … and he prayed they never would.

~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~~

John fought to ignore the intense pain in his chest. He had to make it back to town. He had to find a way to stop this. The fastest the heart attacks killed was three days, but all the boys were hospitalized long before that, and if he and Dean were suffering from the same thing …

He glance over at Sam who was reaching back to check on his brother. The review mirror showed John that his oldest was masking the pain with a lopsided grin.

"I'm fine, Sammy."

He didn't say anymore, and, if the way he himself was feeling was any indication, John was surprised Dean was able to say that much. Sam turned his near panicked gaze back toward John. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, John pushed the pain farther from his mind. If he was the only one affected, he would do his best not to leave his boys, but it wasn't just him this time. He was NOT going to let Dean die. He was NOT going to leave Sam alone. He was going to beat this thing … he had to.

Just outside the Berryville city limits, John was reaching his breaking point. The pain had been steadily increasing making it harder to breath. If it got much worst …

"Sam." He gasped.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I may … you might have to … take the wheel."

Sam's eyes grew wide with fear.

"Me? Dad … I …"

"We … may not have … a choice … Sammy."

Sam looked into the back seat.

"Dad …" Dean panted, "I can … do it."

"No … only Sam."

"I can … make it."

"No Dean." Sam said quietly, "I have to."

John was just looking for a place to pull over when he felt the pain start to lessen.

"Dad … " Dean's voice sounded stronger.

"I know."

John felt better with each passing minute, watched Dean heal just as rapidly. As relived as he was he hadn't missed the sign they passed when the change occurred.

_Welcome To Berrryville._

**~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~**

By the time they pulled up to their hotel, Dean was feeling great … now if only he could convince Sam. Almost before they stopped, Sam hopped out of the car and opened the door for dean, reaching in to help him out.

"Dude," Dean groaned, shoving passed his brother, "I'm FINE already."

"That's what you said when you were half dead."

The kid had as point, but older brother pride wouldn't let him admit it.

"Do I look half dead now?"

"Boys."

It was amazing how one word in that one tone could stop any argument. Dean pushed past Sam, taking a weak punch to the back, and went into their room. Flopping down on the couch, he flipped on the tv. Sam grabbed his duffel and headed to the bathroom. Dean didn't miss the grimace on Sam's face, or the fact he was not using his right arm, and he mentally kicked himself for forgetting that Sam had been hurt too. He would have to check on him as soon as he got cleaned up, until then he would distract himself with a crappy monster movie and relax. Having a near heart attack took a lot out of a guy.

A few minutes later he snagged one of Sam's notebooks off the coffee table and turned to a blank page. Before he knew it the page was filled and Dean stared the words in horror. He didn't just write … Tearing the page out he crumpled it up and tossed it towards the trash can in the corner before picking up the pen again. This continued for several more pages until Sam was finished with his shower and joined him on the couch.

"Hey," he reach over to take back the book, "that's mine."

Dean held it out of reach, while he scribbled out more nauseating dibble. But Sam was a Winchester and Winchester's don't give up. Practically climbing on top of him, Sam tried again to get his notebook. With the hand that wasn't writing, Dean held him off so he could finish the line.

"What the h%^$ do you think you are doing?"

Sam scrambled off, just in time for Dean to see John's disapproving glare from the kitchen table.

"Sam, get in here so I can check your side."

Silently Sam obeyed and Dean kicked himself again, glaring at the d#&^ notebook. He could have hurt his little brother and for what? What the h&^* was he writing this crap for anyway? He threw the notebook toward the pile of crumpled up paper and tried to focus on the end of the movie … bu not five minutes later, with pen in hand, he was at it again.

**~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam rubbed the ace bandage on his wrist. It wasn't broken, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. If only he had been paying attention when those stupid jerks threw that ball at him. He looked over to the couch to see Dean now had moved onto another note book and his other one was laying in a pile of wadded up paper. Glaring in his brothers general direction., Sam picked up the discarded book and noticed the words on it.

"What the- Dean, you're writing POETRY!?"

Sam wasn't sure if Dean's crimson complexion was a result of anger or embarrassment, but he knew one thing … when to dodge. As Dean chased him around the small hotel room, the little brother in him couldn't resist.

"Your eyes shine with the light of Vegas at night," he read dramatically, "your hair is as graceful as a mouse scampering through the house,"

He shot his brother an amused smirk.

"Dude, you suck!"

"Give me that." Dean growled.

Narrowly escaping Dean's grasp, Sam jumped over his bed. For once, he was glad he was injured, no way who would have lasted this long if his brother wasn't trying to avoid hurting him farther. Just as he was passing the kitchen, he felt a firm hand grab the back of his shirt and the notebook was taken from his hand. He watched as John read over the words with an unreadable expression.

"Dad, I … I don't know what came over me."

"Temporary insanity." John murmured, not taking his eyes off the page.

Dropping the notebook on the table, John grabbed his coat. Snatching the book before Sam could, Dean turned when his dad spoke.

"I'm going to check on something. Stay here."

"Yes sir."

As soon as he was gone, Dean started to gather up the crumpled papers. Sam managed to sneak one away before Dean piled them in the sink and went for the lighter fluid.

"Oh, if I were a pawn to touch your palm-"

Dean grabbed it and tossed it into the flames with the others.

"Dude … are these for DOREEN?"

"Shut up."

**~~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

Temporary insanity.

That's what Dean claimed when he agreed to be Doreen Swinburn's science partner. That's how John felt when he agreed to go out with Sandra. Both of them were affected by heart attacks when they left town. These can't be coincidences. John flipped through the obituaries looking for any man, any age, who died of a heart attack from this town. If John was right, then whatever killed those three boys might be more deadly then he thought. By the time he had his list of names, it was almost dinner time. Might as well pick something up on the way home.

Stepping into the diner, John scanned the to go menu.

"John?"

Inwardly cringing at the voice, he pretended he didn't hear it. How did she always find him? Freaking small towns …

"John, I thought that was you."

Sandra put her hand on his arm and smiled warmly.

"Hi."

John made a mental note of the waitress outfit she was wearing, so he could remember not to come into THIS diner again.

"Have you ordered yet?"

"No."

"Well, I just got off, if you want company," she offered.

"Actually, I was taking it to go." John answered, scanning for someone to take his order so he could get out of there.

"Of course," she nodded, "your boys."

It looked like he might get off easy this time.

"I know, why don't I make the three of you dinner?"

John literally locked his jaw before he could agree. No way in h^&% he was bringing some woman home to his sons, especially one who seemed to have some sort of control over him. Not trusting himself to talk, John turned and walked away.

"John!" She called after him.

He quickened his pace. His jaw was starting to hurt, but he could risk opening his mouth. When he had to stop to unlock the car, Sandra caught up to him.

"John, what's wrong?"

He sent her a dark glare and climbed into his car. As he drove back to the hotel, grabbing drive thru on the way, John couldn't get his mind of the case. Whatever was behind this had crossed a line when it went after his family. He would find out what was going on … then he would make the b#s%a&d would pay.

* * *

Majeeda tried to hide her shock at her client's report.

"What do you mean he didn't let you meet his family?"

"I don't know what happened." Sandra wrung her hands. "I just asked if I could make them dinner and he got so angry."

Majeeda frowned inwardly. This would have to be the most protective father in the world if HER magic couldn't compel him to to bring a stranger home to his boys.

"Don't worry, my dear," she soothed, "I'm sure John was just having a bad day. He'll come around."

She'll make sure of that. If her regular tricks weren't going to cut it, she'd have to up the strength. It would be a delicate balance to make him comply without the spell becoming too obvious, but she had not been defied like this in over one hundred years.

"The next time you see John, he will be begging for you to make his family dinner, just wait and see."

Sandra smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"You really think so?"

Majeeda smiled back.

"I know so."

John would bend to her power … she would make sure of that.

* * *

Things are not looking well for the Winchesters ...

Let me know what you think, and I'll get started on the next chapter right away. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the wait. Lots of stuff going on.

Hope you like it.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

John walked into the hotel room in time to see Sam run past him, clutching a handful of papers.

"Hand 'em over or I'll kick your a#$." Dean growled, only a few steps behind.

"But Dean," Sam teased, "they're so pretty."

Looks like Dean had taken up writing again, but John wasn't in the mood for their antics.

"Sam."

Sighing, he reluctantly surrendered the poems to his older brother … who promptly reduced them to confetti.

"PLEASE tell me you figured out what's going on around here." Dean begged.

"I have a theory …" John admitted, dropping the food on the table.

"Well?" His oldest asked anxiously.

John sat at the table and passed out their burgers.

"Somehow, Sandra and Doreen have been able to control us."

"You sure?" Sam wondered. "I mean, Doreen was determined, but didn't act any differently then most of the other girls that throw themselves at Dean."

John look at him sharply.

"Your brother was writing poetry."

Sam blinked.

"Point taken."

"So," Dean cut in, "how do we stop it?"

"First, we need to know EXACTLY how they are doing it."

"And fast," Dean added, "I don't know how much more of this crap I can take."

Sam stared at his untouched dinner in silence.

"Sammy?" Dean questioned.

"Do you think …" Sam started, "do you think they caused the heart attacks?"

"Yes." John stated, "but we seem to be fine as long as we stay in town."

"See," Dean mumbled through a mouthful of food, "I told you we would be okay."

Sam nodded and started eating. John half listened to the brotherly banter that ran through the meal, but his mind was on the case. Neither Sandra nor Doreen seem to have complete control over them, just in a few areas … but what would happen if that changed?

**  
~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~**

Sam wondered to the back of the convenient store, wishing his dad had let him walk a mile farther to get some real food. Then again, after spending Friday night, all day Saturday, and half of Sunday couped up in the hotel room researching, any kind out outing was more then welcome … even if it was only three blocks away.

Scanning over the pre-made sandwiches and microwave burritos, he made his selections. Grabbing three cokes and a box of donuts to finish off the meal, Sam turned towards the register … and froze. Doreen was blocking the mouth of the isle. One glance back showed Sam that a gang of intoxicated teenagers cut him off the other way. While he was weighing his chances of getting passed the boys with his arms full against ditching the food and coming back after Doreen left, she made his choice for him … option three, face her.

"Sam?"

Inwardly cringing, Sam gave her a forced smile.

"Um … hi Doreen."

He watcher her eyes grow wide with horror.

"Sweetie, what happened!?"

At first, he had no idea what she was talking about, until she brushed her hand over the bruise on his cheek before dropping down to touch the wrap on his wrist.

"It's nothing," he assured her, "I just … fell out of a tree."

"You poor kid. Do you need any help with those?"

"No," He said, a little to quickly, "I got it."

"Getting lunch for your family?"

Duh.

"Yeah."

"Which one is for Dean?"

Why would she POSSIBLY want to know that?

"Um … why?"

"So I know what foods to make him, of course." She said with a smile. "After all, everyone knows that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

Normally true, in Dean's case anyway. However, Sam couldn't help but think that, if Doreen cooked for him, it may very well be the only time his brother would turn down free food.

"Speaking of which, I better get back. Dean's probably getting hungry."

Sam hoped if she thought it was for Dean, she might back off.

"You are such a sweet boy, helping your family out. Especially when you are injured."

Lady, you haven't SEEN injured.

"Um … thanks." Sam muttered, pushing past her to get to the register.

She followed him over.

"You sure you don't need any help?"

"I'll be fine."

"Would you like a ride back home?"

Dean would kill him.

"No … it's not far."

"Really? I wouldn't mind."

"It's REALLY not far."

Doreen thought for a minute.

"How about I walk you then?" She looking pointedly at the teenagers who were trying to hide liquor in the coat pockets. "The area can be dangerous sometimes."

Sam suppressed the strong desire to roll his eyes, Dean could have handled a neighbor hood like this when he was eight. Besides, if the two of them ran into trouble, Doreen would probably be about as useful as a wet towel. He paid for his lunch and headed for the door.

"Bye Doreen."

Despite his assurances, Doreen still tried to see him 'safely home'. Thanks to her goodwill, it took him over twenty minutes to loose her and another fifteen to get back to their hotel … just enough time to think about how much trouble he was going to get in for being late.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean checked out the window, for what had to be the eighteenth time, scanning for any sign of his brother. Where the crap was Sam? It did NOT take this long to get food as a stupid mini mart.

"Sit down." John instructed from the table.

Dean dropped onto the couch, but kept his eyes locked on the door.

"You should have let me go with him." He mumbled.

John gave him a hard glare.

"You know we can't risk it, not until we know how Doreen is controlling you."

Dean checked his watch, again.

"Dad, it been almost forty-five minutes."

John frowned, checking his own watch.

"Give him five more, then go."

Four minutes later, Dean was pulling on his shoes when the door opened.

"Sorry I'm late." Sam muttered, dropping the plastic sacks on the counter.

"Sorry?" Dean scoffed, "where the h^&% have you been?"

"Doreen was at the store." Sam explained. "It took a while to loose her."

Dean fought the urge to cringe while he took his sandwich out of the bag, instead giving his brother a cocky grin.

"It took THIS long for you to ditch a CHESS CLUB GIRL?" He shook his head, making a tsking sound. "You're slipping, dude."

Sam glared, grabbing his own food.

"Bite me." He turned to John. "You find anything while I was out?"

John shook his head.

"Nothing yet, but I think we need to go back to the library."

"The library?" Dean raised en eyebrow, "didn't you say we need to stay here?"

"Yes, well, we also need to finish this hunt." John checked his watch. "Dean, you take Sam to the library and see what you can dig up there."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll hit the county records, see what I can find out about these other men who died."

Dean nodded, wolfing down his sandwich.

"No problem, Dad," his mouth full of ham and cheese, "we'll figure this out."

"Right … and Dean?" he locked eyes with his oldest, "stay together."

Dean glanced at Sam and the mark on his face, a wave of guilt washing over him. No way he was letting something like THAT happen again. He swallowed and matched his dad's serious look.

"Don't worry, Dad, I won't let him out of my sight."

Upon arriving at the library Dean stayed directly behind Sam, his eyes sweeping the room for any sign of danger.

"Dude, you can chill already." Sam muttered.

"Like at the lake?" Dean whispered back, "Uh-uh Sam, not again."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"It's the freaking library." he groaned, "last time I check there weren't any jocks throwing footballs among the shelves."

Dean shrugged, but stayed close to him anyway. Jocks or no jocks, if there was one thing he learned is that you can find trouble anywhere … especially if you are a Winchester.

**~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

John slipped out of the records office, files firmly tucked under his jacket, and made his way quickly to the car. With the Impala insight, he was almost out of the woods … and then …

"John?"

She HAD to be following him or something.

"John, just wait a second."

When Sandra took hold of his arm, he had keep himself from giving into reflex and punching her in the face. Locking his jaw again, he stopped.

"What happened the other day? All I want to do is help you."

John fought to maintain control, even as he felt a response trying to claw it's way out of his throat. He didn't know what he would say, but he knew he wouldn't like it.

"Look, I understand if you were having a bad day, and I'm willing to start over."

He could have been wrong, but John was sure he felt sweat forming on his head under the strain of resistance.

"So what do you say? Can I make your family dinner tonight?"

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep the words in.

"I'd like that."

Either she didn't notice that the answer was ground out between clenched teeth or she didn't care.

"Great. Could you give me a ride back to my house so I can pick up some ingredients? Then we can go over to your place and I can meet the boys."

Glaring, John got in the Impala and took her by her house. He wished he could summon the strength to just drive away and leave her here, but the pull to stay was too overwhelming. Ten minutes later, he opened the door to the hotel room, rushing ahead to hide the shotgun under Sam's bed and gather his case notes.

"This is … cozy." She said slowly, looking around the dismal room.

"Works for us." John muttered, shoving the papers into a duffel and pushing it under Sam's bed with the gun.

"Where are the boys?"

"Library."

"That's great that your boys like to read. So many young people today won't read anything but comic books and magazines."

John smirked at the description of Dean growing up … and last week. He frowned, knowing Dean and Sam were not going to be happy about this. H&%^, HE wasn't happy about this.

**~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~**

Sam was getting hungry by the time he and Dean arrived back at the hotel.

"Do you think Dad would lets us order pizza?" He asked.

Dean shrugged while he unlocked the door.

"I'm sure he wouldn't want to go out so he wouldn't run into-"

As soon as the door opened, Dean tensed up. Sam didn't even get a chance to see what he was looking at, before his brother shut the door and pulled him across the parking lot.

"Dean? What's going on?"

Dean didn't answer. He didn't even stop until the were almost a block away. When he reached the corner he pulled out his cell phone and Sam got a good look at the anger on his face.

"Dad? What the H$&% is she doing in there?"

Sam was trying to figure out if Dean meant Sandra or Doreen … not that he could see John letting either in there hotel room.

"No … but Dad …"

Dean's expression changed to one Sam had seen many times … John had given him an order.

"Yes sir … we'll be there in a few minutes."

Dean glared back toward the hotel and started walking.

"Dean?"

"Sandra's making us dinner tonight." He grumbled.

Sam silently followed his brother back to their room. At one point he may have been happy to meet Sandra, but now he wished she would just leave his family alone. A single glance at Dean made one thing clear … this was going to be a long night.

Following Dean into the room, Sam saw an, auburn haired, woman busy in the kitchen while their Dad sat glumly on the couch. He looked at them, an apology clear in his eyes, but Sam knew it wasn't his fault.

"Oh!" her exclamation almost made Sam jump, "You must be Dean and Sam."

Dean's glare darkened as she made her way over to them. Without warning she pulled Sam into a hug. He stiffened, unsure of how he should react exactly.

"It's so nice to meet you."

The embrace only lasted a second before Dean pulled him from her arms.

"Don't touch my brother." he demanded.

She seemed shocked by his behavior and John, who had gotten to his feet as soon as Sandra reached for Sam, moved between her and them.

"It-It was just a hug," she stammered, "I-I wasn't gonna hurt him."

John and Dean maintained their defensive postures, with his dad in front.

"John …" she half whispered, "don't you ever hug your kids?"

Sam didn't know whether he should groan or glare. Of COURSE their dad hugged them, he was a hunter, not heartless. But John Winchester was not one to explain himself to a stranger … or anyone else for that matter.

"My kids. My business. Back off." John growled.

"But John, hugging is an important part of a child's development." She argued, " Studies show hugging helps strengthen the immune system, reduce stress and the likelihood of destructive behavior, helps overcome fears, makes children more loving and affectionate, as well as encourages them to share their feelings."

Someone watches WAY too much Dr. Phil. But Sam knew there was no scientific study in the world that was going to turn HIS dad warm and fuzzy. After a few tense moments, Sandra sighed in defeat.

"Alright John, this is not the time or place for this discussion. You and I can talk later."

As if THAT would do anything. John relaxed slightly, but maintained his position.

"How about we just eat and get to know each other a little?"

She gave them a gentle smile and went back into the kitchen to set the table. This was going to be be a VERY long night.

*** * ***

Majeeda gave her client a sleepy smile. This John guy was going to cost her a lot of business if he continued to be so stubborn. After Sandra left, Majeeda had slept most of the day away and still couldn't seem to regain her strength. She would just have to start taking a little extra life force for a while, so she wouldn't get so drained.

"What can I help you with, my dear?"

Doreen smiled shyly, fidgeting with the hem of her blouse.

"Well, I was just thinking, maybe it was time for Dean to … you know … ask me out."

Finally, something easy.

"Sure." She assured the nervous teen, "he will ask you by the time school is out tomorrow."

She grinned brightly, showing off her silver braces.

"Thank you Madam Majeeda, I don't know what I would do without you."

Or what I would do without you, Majeeda thought to herself and began the incantation.

* * *

I have the next chapter done and I'll post as soon as I get it back from my editor. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry this chapter took so long, both my editor and I have been REALLY busy, but this are finally starting to calm down. :)

Anyway, I hope you like it ...

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Sam glanced back and forth between his dad and brother, slumped into the chairs on either side of him, while they waited to see what dish Sandra had cooked up. Dean twirled his fork in his hands while John scanned an old newspaper for stories on the heart attacks.

"John, Dean, stop slouching," Sandra instructed, "it's bad for your back."

While John ignored her, Dean responded by sinking deeper into his chair with a smirk. Sandra turned around and gave him a disapproving look.

"Dean, if you go any lower you will be on the floor."

Sam bit back a laugh but couldn't hide his smile.

"This is not a laughing matter Sam." She looked at their dad. "John, do you really allow this kind of defiance in your sons?"

John shrugged, not looking up from his paper.

"He's not defying me."

Sandra let out an exasperated sigh and returned to the stove.

"Then can YOU tell him to sit properly?"

"I could." John agreed, turning to a new page.

Sandra watched him for a minute, but Sam knew she was wasting her time. No way John Winchester was going to let a virtual stranger tell him what to do, especially with his kids. One look at Dean, and Sam knew they were thinking the same thing … don't laugh.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to do something about your son?"

John glanced over at Dean, who went back to his original bad posture.

"He's fine." John muttered, looking back at the paper.

Sandra scowled, but didn't press the subject. Instead she turned around and dished up their dinner. With the efficiency of a professional waitress, Sandra turned around and place a plate in front of each of them piled high with … something. Sam recognized the rice and the vegetables … but the white cubes were a mystery. They looked like a cross between jello and milk, and Sam was hesitant to try them … and he wasn't the only one.

"What IS this crap?" Dean exclaimed.

"Dean," Sandra warned, "I will not have that kind of language at the table."

"What?" Dean asked with a cocky grin, "you mean ENGLISH?"

Don't laugh, Sam told himself, just don't laugh.

"John?" Sandra looked at him, waiting for him to help her.

John seemed unaware of their conversation, instead asking his own question.

"What IS this crap?"

While Dean and Sam snickered, Sandra was not amused.

"John," she whispered, "the kids."

He glanced at the boys, before giving her a puzzled look.

"What about them?"

"You need to set a – oh, never mind, we'll talk about it later." Sandra stated. "Just eat your dinner."

Sam continued to stare at the squares, poking them with his fork. Sandra looked around the table in surprise.

"Don't tell me you have never had tofu before."

Simultaneously, all the Winchesters pushed their plates away.

"Ah gross." Sam muttered

"Come on now," She smiled, "how do you know you won't like it if you don't try it?"

"Lady … it's imitation meat." Dean pointed out, "by definition, gross."

If Sandra had been just a little more attentive, Sam didn't think he would have made it through the meal. Luckily, Sandra kept getting up to refill the water pitcher or check on desert … allowing time for John to scrap some food off the plate in front of him into the trash before quickly handing it off to Dean and taking Sam's plate. This rotation process repeated until half their food was gone without any of them having to take a single bite.

"So?" Sandra asked cheerfully, sitting back in her chair, "are you all enjoying your food?"

"I've never tasted anything like it." Dean grinned.

Sandra looked pleased, and Sam ducked his head to hide a smile. John was busy mixing around the food on his current plate, waiting for another opportunity to ditch the crap when he knocked his knife off the table. Instinctively reaching for it, John hit his knuckles against the edge of the table.

"D*^& it." he muttered, shaking out his hand.

Sandra dropped her fork and looked at him in shock.

"John!" she exclaimed, "if you use language like that in front of the boys, they might pick it up!"

Sam bit his tongue, the words 'don't laugh' echoing in his mind. Dean, however, did not share his restraint.

"Yeah Dad, watch your f%$^ing language."

"DEAN!"

Sandra gave Dean a look of pure horror which only made Sam's restraint harder. DON'T LAUGH, whatever you do, DO NOT LAUGH.

"Is this REALLY the example you two want to set for Sam?"

John and Dean looked from Sam to Sandra, before answering together.

"Yes."

The look on Sandra's face was priceless and Sam couldn't stop himself from snickering. In the half hour since she got there Sandra had tried to get his family to be more sensitive, eat healthy, and clean up their language. Of course, it might be easier knocking down the Eiffel Tower with bolt cutters. Sam couldn't help but wonder what else she she would try before the night was over.

**~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~**

As Dean watched the last bit of Sandra's home cooking disappear into the trash can, all he could think was how he would kill for a cheeseburger.

"Oh good, your all finished." Sandra smiled. "Now for desert."

Dean's stomach growled at the word and he hoped it was something he would ACTUALLY eat.

"Now Dean, your father mentioned you liked pie, so …"

Oh, if there is a God, Dean prayed, PLEASE don't let her have screwed up pie.

"… here you go."

She place a two inch round pastry crust, filled with sliced fruit, in front of each of them. Dean gave his a skeptical glance before looking up at Sandra.

"Lady … this is NOT pie. It dreams of someday BEING pie, but it's not pie."

"They're jam tarts." Sandra explained, "healthier then pie, but just as good."

Dean SERIOUSLY doubted that. He watched Sam flick his tart, making it spin on his plate.

"Sam, don't play with your food." Sandra looked around the table and sighed, "At least try it. I promise you will like it."

Sam was the first one to take a bite. Dean watched his face while he chewed, but didn't see any sign of discomfort. Hungry enough to eat … almost anything, Dean crammed the whole tart in his mouth.

As soon as they finished their desert Dean took out the trash before Sandra could. When he got back, Sam was on his bed, reviewing his homework, while their dad was reading another newspaper and Sandra was doing the dishes. Plopping onto the couch, Dean grabbed the remote and started channel surfing.

"Dean?" Sandra asked, "Don't you have homework?"

Didn't matter if he did or not. It wasn't like they were going to be in town long enough for his grades to matter, and she had no business asking anyway … so he ignored the question.

"Dean?" She repeated, closer now.

He glanced over to see her right behind him.

"What?"

"Don't you have homework to do?"

"Lady, it's Sunday night." He groaned, turning back to the tv. "You think if I had homework I would have done it by now."

Which was true. When you are confined to a hotel room, boredom will make you do crazy things, including an English paper.

"We'll your brother's doing HIS homework?"

"No," Dean corrected, "Sammy's double checking his homework."

"Why don't you double check your homework, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Would she just drop it already?

"Because I am not a geek."

He felt a pillow hit the back of his head.

"Shut up, jerk."

"Sam," Sandra scolded, "that is NOT a kind thing to say to your brother."

Sam and Dean shared an annoyed look.

"Um … Dean?"

Now what?

"I don't think you should be watching this movie before bed, especially with your little brother right behind you."

Dean sent her a confused look.

"Are you serious?"

"The images might give him nightmares."

"Lady, it's 'PLANET OF THE APES'."

"Exactly."

"Yeah, Dean," Sam added, sarcastically, "those big monkeys scare me."

Dean glanced down at the tv guide.

"Fine … I'll change it."

"Thank you for doing the mature thing."

"No problem." Dean grinned, switching to another channel as soon as she was back in the kitchen.

About ten minutes later Sandra finished the dishes and came back over to the living room area.

"Alright, boys, time to get ready for bed."

Dean snapped his head up.

"You have GOT to be kidding me."

"We NEVER go to bed this early." Sam protested.

"Well maybe you should, especially you Sam. Growing boys need their sleep."

Dean turned his gaze to John, and he would have bet anything Sam was doing the same thing.

"Dad?" Sam asked quietly. "Do we have to?"

Though Dean wondered if Sandra's hold would take over here, John glanced up and shook his head. With a sigh of relief, Dean looked back at the tv.

"John," Sandra prodded, "don't you think it's getting a little late for the boys?"

"You're right Sandra," John stated, getting Dean's attention, "And they used to go to bed at nine … then they started elementary school. They're fine."

Thank you, Dad. He allowed his focus to drift to the explosion on the screen.

"Dean! What are you watching?"

Looks like Sandra noticed it too. He gave her a large grin.

"Die Hard."

"I thought you were going to put something better on?"

"What are you talking about, lady? 'Die Hard' is WAY better then 'Planet of the Apes'."

She scowled at him.

"You know, Dean, I would appreciate it if you came up with something nicer to call me then 'lady'."

Dean paused for a second.

"M'lady?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of Sandra, Miss Reed, or ma'am."

"Okay … a good name for you … is b&^*% from h%*$ too over the top?"

"Dean, I will not stand for that kind of language."

"Exactly how do you plan to stop me?"

She glared, but they both knew she had no control over him.

"John," She said, facing their dad, "do something about your son."

Dean could see their dad's expression darken from across the room and glanced back at Sam. Clearly Sam saw the same thing … Sandra had crossed a line.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Pure anger pulsed through him as John looked up at Sandra. This woman who forced herself onto his family, tried to tell his sons what to do, was now trying to order HIM around? H&%$ no!

"Do something about HIM?" John hissed, standing to his full hight of six two, a good eight inches taller then Sandra. "He's fine. The problem is you trying to be someone you are not."

"But John, I was just-"

"You are not Mary, and you never will be," John interrupted, "so don't tell MY boys what to do."

She stared at him in shock.

"I NEVER claimed to be their mother." She stated, with an angry tremor in her voice, "I was just trying to help."

"Well, we are doing just fine without it."

Sandra glared at him for a minute before grabbing her things and storming out. John watched her from the window until her cab pulled away, before turning to his sons.

"Get your coats."

There had to be an open diner somewhere and, if the way he felt was any indication, the boys had to be starving.

After a meal of burgers fries and, as Dean called it, 'true pie', they return do the hotel for the night.

"Thank you, Dad." Dean said with a smile, sinking back in front of the tv, "I thought I was going to die from lack of grease."

John allowed himself a half smile, but was too concerned about the hunt to provide any farther acknowledgement.

"Dad," Sam asked tentatively, "do you think Sandra will be back?"

John wish he could lie to them, but instead he sighed.

"We are going to have more trouble with Sandra."

"You sound pretty certain there, Dad." Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Anytime a woman storms out of a room THAT mad, you can guaranty, there WILL be trouble."

Sam and Dean exchanged amused glances.

"Are you speaking from experience?" Sam wondered, not bothering to suppress his smirk.

"Tell me," a cocky grin on Dean's face, "on a scale of one to ten, how often would you say angry women storm out of your hotel room?"

John sent the both a dark glare.

"Bed. Now."

*** * ***

Majeeda patted Sandra's hand soothingly, but inwardly wished she would just tell her what John did now. This guy was beginning to be a real pain.

"They were so angry." She sobbed.

"They?"

"John and his son, Dean" She explained between tears, "I wasn't trying to replace the boys' mother."

Well, THAT explained it.

"There is nothing to worry about, my dear." Majeeda smiled. "Especially if John lost his first wife, you just need to be patient with him, he'll come around. As far as the boys go … just give them time to get used to the idea."

Sandra sniffed and dabbed her eyes with a corner of the table cloth.

"You're right. I just need to slow down a little, that's all."

Slow down, Majeeda's two favorite words. The longer it takes, the more life force she can drain.

"Exactly. Now is there anything you would like him to work on in the mean time?"

Sandra sigh and rubbed her weary eyes.

"I just wish he would not swear. You know Dean is picking it up? And it's only a matter of time before Sam does too."

Majeeda nodded sympathetically, be inwardly rejoiced. With the effort she now had to put into John's spells, she was grateful for something so minor.

"Don't worry, dear, he will never swear again."

* * *

So, there is part 6. And, since all of you were so paitent, I am posting part 7 right away. :)

(But I would still love to know what you thought of 'Dinner with Sandra')


	7. Chapter 7

As promised, here is the next part ...

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Dreaming of the girls at the lake, Dean tried to block out the muffled voice calling him to consciousness … but couldn't ignore the warmth of his blanket being ripped from his bed.

"Get up." John ordered.

Knowing that if he didn't comply he risked having his mattress turned over, or worst, Dean forced himself to sit up. He noticed Sam was in the exact same situation, and that the sun had yet to rise.

"What time is it?" Dean asked, trying not to sound like he was whining.

There were only two reasons for John to wake them up before the sun, hunting and training. Complaining about a hunt was useless and complaining about training only produced more training.

"5:30."

"In the morning?" Sam yawned.

Dean shot him a warning glance. He wasn't thrilled about this either, but that was no reason to make it worst. John also gave him a stern look.

"Yes." He stated firmly.

Giving his little brother a subtle shove, Dean shot him a look to just go along with it.

It wasn't long before both Dean and Sam were changed into sweats and t-shirts and were doing their warm up stretches.

"Don't take too long on the run." John instructed, sipping his coffee, "There are a few more exercises I would like you to do before school."

Dean noticed Sam's shoulders droop a little, but cut him off before he could protest.

"Alright Dad."

John nodded and set his coffee on the table, but the cup tipped over, spreading a brown puddled across his papers.

"Gosh darn it!" John grunted, straightening his cup.

Dean froze, slowly turning to his dad as his brother did the same.

"Dad … ?" Sam asked slowly.

John's face wore a confused look.

"What the heck?"

The three just stared at each other for a minute before Dean realized what was happening.

"I guess Sandra really didn't like your swearing."

Sam snickered at his father's groan.

"Sucks to be you."

Glaring John pointed to the door.

"Two miles. go."

**~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~**

Dean leaned against the wall of his school and let out a frustrated sigh. He had almost 40 minutes until science ended and nowhere to go. He debated about just cutting school all together, but that would leave Sam alone. Not that his brother was helpless, but Winchester luck was a b&*%^. Speaking of Sam, he should be in history about now. Dean walked around the building, soon finding Sam's classroom. Sam was right by the window, paying close attention to the lesson. No shock there. Dean settled in the bushes where he could watch Sam, but not be seen by anyone else.

He was just starting to think how pathetic it was that he was sitting in a bush, hiding from the chess club captain, when he caught sight of something hit the back of Sam's head. Sam turned briefly to glare at the seat behind him before turning his attention back to the front. Dean watch closely as a second object, he could now see was a rubber band, hit his brother. This time Sam ignored it. Several rubber bands later Sam turned again, this time giving the guy a verbal warning. Dean wished the window was big enough to get a glimpse of the jerk that was messing with Sam. He kept watching and, after a couple more rubber bands, the kid stopped.

After school let out, Dean hung around the middle school, scanning for anyone he knew to be in Sam's class. He caught sight a blond boy he had seen talking to Sam a couple of times.

"Hey, kid."

Curious blue eyes looked up at him.

"Yeah?" He asked slowly.

"You know my brother, Sam?"

"Oh, your Dean." he smiled, "I'm Luke."

Luke, the kid from his history class. For once, things were starting to go right.

"You're the one who is dating Doreen the chess club queen, aren't you?"

Dean glared down at the kid.

"No."

"But my sister said-"

"Forget about that for a second, who sits behind Sam in history?"

Luke gave him a confused look.

"Why?"

"Just want to talk to him."

And punch him in the face …

"Oh, okay."

Luke scanned the yard and pointed out one kid.

"That's him, Jerry Stever."

Dean was halfway across the yard when someone grabbed his arm. Resisting the instant reaction to take a swing at them, it was a school yard after all, Dean turn … and almost wished he didn't have so much control.

"Hi Dean." Doreen smiled.

Overcome by the desire to give her flowers, Dean reached down and yanked up a weed, roots and all.

"Oh, um, thank you." She said, admiring the dandelions. "I love yellow."

He felt the urge to say something, but managed to keep it inside … for now.

"What do you want?" He grunted between clenched teeth.

She blushed slightly and looked at the ground.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask me out."

With those words the desire inside him grew and he had to piratically bite his tongue to keep from responding. No way. No FREAKING way was he going to ask HER out.

"I was thinking, since you hadn't yet, that maybe you were shy, or something."

The 'or something' pretty much covers it, but it's closer to 'would rather eat live cockroaches'.

"So, I thought I might take the initiative and ask you out, say, tonight at the drive in movie?"

Don't say it. DON'T say it. DON'T SAY IT.

"Sure, sounds great."

Kill me now.

"Great," she slipped him a piece of paper, "he's my address. Pick me up at seven?"

"Can't wait." He growled.

As soon as she was gone, he returned to his search for Jerry Stever. Suddenly he REALLY wanted to hit someone.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

Entering the bookstore, John scanned the room out of habit. There was your usual for a store like this. A spattering of teenagers in the magazines, a mother looking at picture books with her young son, middle age romantics picking up cheap novels … nothing out of the ordinary. Sam walked passed him towards the occult section in the back corner. It had surprised John to learn that this store had a better selection then the library. Before he could think deeper into it a female voice called his name.

"John?"

He was torn between the urge to cringe and the desire to pull his gun. He settled for walking away.

"John, wait." Sandra grabbed his arm, "I need to apologize for last night."

He gave her a nod and turned away again.

"I never meant to replace your wife," she continued, moving in front of him, "I would never want to. Please forgive me."

Wow, she seemed almost human now.

"It's fine." He grunted, hoping that would make her go way.

The way she smiled told him he had no such luck.

"Great. So," she glanced around, "where are the boys?"

"Dean's at the hotel, Sam's looking at books."

"Oh, well, there is another books store across town that's really nice."

John gave her a curious glance. What was wrong with this place?

"Don't get me wrong, Clemens' Attic has a great selection … I just worry about the young people being around Simon Ridley."

She gestured to a man with shaggy, sand colored, hair and pale gray eyes wearing a black sweater. He was glancing through a newspaper behind the checkout.

"His family has owned this store for four generations, but now it's just him."

Simon sipped his coffee slowly and turned the page on his paper. He hardly looked like the menace to society that Sandra was making him out to be, but one thing a hunter knew was looks can be deceiving. There was something he liked about small towns, everyone knew about everyone else … and there was always someone willing to share.

"What's wrong with him?" John asked innocently.

"He lost his family last year, some kind of accident I think. Then he … he just lost it."

"Lost it?"

Sandra sighed and gave Simon a sad look.

"He became obsessed, was sure someone killed his family. And if the conspiracy theories were not bad enough, he starting reading …" She looked around before whispering, "occult books."

John took a second look and notice the haunted look in his eyes, pasty completion, and blank expression. He could be dabbling in the dark arts … or he could be on drugs … or just a man in mourning.

"It's terrible." Sandra continued, "and he fills his store with them too, as if anyone would buy-"

She was interrupted when Sam walked up.

"Dad, I'm ready to go."

"Sam!" Sandra shrieked, looking horror at the book in his arms.

John almost smiled at the sight of the Latin spell book. Ignoring Sandra he steered Sam over to the resister and paid for their purchase, leaving her dumbstruck in the middle of the store.

**~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~**

Sam flipped through his new book, looking for anything that might help them figure out how his family was being controlled.

"Any luck?" John asked from his own book.

"No." Sam sighed.

He was just about to take a break when the door opened bringing in a highly annoyed Dean who promptly dropped onto the couch. Sam checked his watch and smirked.

"Back before ten? Did your date have a curfew?"

Ducking as a throw pillow sailed above his head, Sam grinned at his brother's glare.

"It was that bad huh?" John smiled.

"The highlight was, she only ruined half the movie, she spent most of the other half at the concession stand."

"What'd you see?" Sam wondered.

"I Spit On Your Grave."

He hadn't see that one, but the name did sound like something Dean would watch.

"How'd she like it?" John asked from the table.

"Apparently, she is not a fan of graphic slasher movies." Dean shrugged, "who knew?"

"How did she ruin it?" Sam wondered, pushing his book off his lap.

Dean propped his elbow on the back of the couch, so he was in view of both his dad and Sam..

"I wanted to pick something that would disturb her enough that she wouldn't want to go out with me again."

"Nice choice." John muttered.

"Too nice," Dean continued, "the whole thing backfired on me. Every time she got scared she would grab my arm, like I was suppose to protect her from the movie or something."

Wasn't hard to see why Doreen would see Dean as a protector, he was and a d&^# good one at that, but in this case ... Suddenly, Sam remember the reason why he hadn't seen 'I Spit On Your Grave'.

"Wait," Sam frowned, "did that movie used to be rated X?"

Dean got up and moved to sit on his bed, pulling the spell book over to where he could read it.

"Your point?"

"I'M not even allowed to see it, how did you two get in?"

"I have fake id's for a reason, Sammy." His eyes scanned over the page, "find anything yet?"

Sam took the book back.

"Nothing so far."

Dean nodded and stretched out on the bed, picking up the remote.

"Let me know if you do."

Sam rolled his eyes and continued to research while Dean flipped through the channels, stopping a few minutes later.

"Check it out, Godzilla Vs. Mothra."

Glancing up, Sam say the two black and white monsters going at it and couldn't resist. He jumped onto Dean's bed and clung to his arm.

"Dean save me! Those monsters are scary!"

Dean promptly smacked him with a pillow.

*** * ***

Majeeda forced a sympathetic smile as she silently wished the girl would just get to the point.

"It was the worst date EVER." Doreen wailed.

"It can't have been THAT bad." Majeeda cooed, patting the teen's hand.

Doreen shook her head.

"It was awful. He took me to a slasher movie!"

The witch shrugged.

"He is a teenage boy, that is the sort of thing they like." she reasoned, "he was probably just trying to share his interests."

She breathed a sigh of relief when her client nodded.

"But I still feel like the other woman!" Doreen cried.

Now Majeeda was really confused.

"To a … movie?"

Doreen stared at her like she grew a third eye.

"No, to that … that car!"

If she had a dime for every time she heard that one …

"He is obsessed with that stupid hunk of metal. He acts like it's alive."

Boys and their toys, Majeeda thought with a sigh. Well, there were a few ways to fix this problem.

"What would you like him to do?"

Doreen thought for a minute before answering.

"I wish he would sell it and buy a nice, cute car."

* * *

Well, any of you see THAT coming?

I'll get the next part up as soon as I can. Reviews are more then welcome. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry for the wait. Here is what happens when Dean is forced to sell their car ...

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Dean leaned against a minivan, half wishing he could just stake Doreen here and now. He couldn't believe she made him sell the Impala. Now here he was in a d$&% used car lot trying to find one the chess club queen approved of.

"I'm so glad you let me come along." Doreen said from his right, as she looked over the van.

"Like I had a choice?" Dean growled.

Doreen didn't seem to hear him as she checked out the cars in view.

"No," she shook her head, "none of these are right."

I could have told you that, Dean thought bitterly. The Impala outclassed every one of these pieces of junk. Doreen moved down the row, while Dean scanned for anything worth driving.

"What about this one?" Doreen asked.

Dean hardly gave the car a glance.

"No." He stated firmly, before whatever control she had kicked in. "I ain't driving a freaking GEO Metro."

"You know Dean, it wouldn't kill you to drive a modern car … or to use proper grammar."

He shrugged, looking around the lot, wondering how she would react if he told her that graveyard dirt and blood would show up too easily on the white paint.

"Okay … how about that one?"

He gave the gold '81 Honda Civic a brief look and turned away. Doreen sighed and moved on.

"There has to be a car we can both agree on around here somewhere."

I sincerely doubt that, Dean thought, right before a sleek '65 Mustang caught his eye.

"Come on Dean," Doreen sighed, "that looks exactly like your last car."

Dean stared at her in shock.

"Are you kidding me? This looks nothing like the Impala."

"The only difference is that this one has two doors."

"Oh, you're right, I see where you could get the two of them mixed up I mean they are both black, have tires, drive …"

"Well you don't need to be mean about it." Doreen snapped, "besides, it's out of our price range anyway."

When she turned away, Dean thought he heard her mumble something about funeral cars, but decided to ignore her. Instead, he turned to admire a '69 Nova.

"Dean, don't you like any cars that AREN'T ten years older then you?"

He ran his hand down the car's dark blue side.

"Not any that are here." He murmured.

"Well, what about this one?" She pointed towards a car a few spots down, "it's the same make and model, but this one came out in '84. And look, it's a nice bright color."

Dean looked back and forth from the muscle car to its faded yellow descendant.

"The words 'h%^& no' come to mind."

She rolled her eyes and turned away. It was a little surprising that, even though she forced him to sell the Impala, it was fairly easy to turn down all her choices.

"Oh," Doreen exclaimed, "that's ADORABLE!"

Spoke too soon, that familiar pull was back. Dean turned to see what she was looking at and froze. No … H%&$ no … no f^%&ing way …

"See? It's a '79, same age as you. And don't you just love that color." Doreen gushed. "At the perfect price too."

Come on Dean, fight it! Just turn around and run.

"Let's get it." Doreen stated, flagging down a salesman.

Despite his strong internal protests, Dean's body worked against him to pull out half of the money, while Doreen happily paid the rest. The Salesman smiled and handed Dean the keys.

"Enjoy your new car."

Kill me now.

**~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~**

Sam leaned against the hotel wall, watching the entrance to the parking lot, eager to see what Dean's new car would be. He had been waiting for ten minutes before his brother pulled in … driving a green, Volkswagen Beetle. Snickering, he approached the car, getting a dark look from Dean.

"Not one word." He growled, slamming the driver's door.

"I'm not saying anything." Sam grinned, "not sure what to say anyway. There are just way too many choices."

Dean pushed pasted him, heading for the door.

"Where's Dad?"

"Taking his sweet time getting dinner." Sam answered, still grinning at Dean. "I think he is afraid to see your new car."

"You figure out how to stop this yet?"

"Don't you think I would have mentioned that little detail?" Sam said, following his brother inside

Dean pulled off his coat, throwing it forcefully on the bed, and started pacing the room like a caged tiger.

"Chill dude," Sam sat on the couch and picked up the T.V. guide, "it's a bug, not the apocalypse."

"I just can't believe she made me sell the Impala."

"Especially since, it wasn't even yours." Sam smirked. "And Dad couldn't even buy it, since he already owned it."

"YOU can laugh about it." Dean grumbled.

"Of course I can. I achieved every twelve year old's dream … I owned a classic car BEFORE my big brother."

Dean slumped into a chair by the door, glaring darkly.

"Sold for ten bucks," he shook his head, "it's insulting."

"It was all I had." Sam shrugged. "At least now we both own cars."

Sam thought he heard Dean actually growl at that one.

"Look on the bright side."

"Sam, I am driving an over-sized olive, where exactly is the 'bright side', huh?"

Sam's grin widened.

"Well … it matches your eyes."

**~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~**

John opened the hotel room door to see Dean pinning Sam to the couch.

"Dean," he ordered, "get off him."

John walked over to the table, dropping off their take out meal. Dean showed up at his side a second later and started digging through the bags.

"How was the used car lot?"

"Don't ask." Dean glared at his brother's snickering.

John looked out the window and scanned the lot for any new cars.

"You've GOT to be kidding."

"It's adorable." Dean grumbled, sarcastically.

"It's gay." John stated, joining his sons at the table.

"Try telling that to Doreen." Dean took a bite of his burger, "please tell me you found something so we can end this hunt and I can get rid of vomit del Herbie."

"Working on it."

Dean let out a frustrated groan and moved over to the couch.

"Don't you think I want to end this darn hunt too?" John snapped.

"I know Dad," Dean sighed, "but this whole d&%* case is bugging me."

John knew exactly how he felt, but he was not about to have a Brady Bunch moment.

"Then quit whining and get some work done."

"Yes sir."

John looked across the table where Sam was eating his lunch.

"Have you finished that spell book yet?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "it was a bust."

"Darn." John muttered. "We're going to have to go back to the bookstore."

"I'll stop by after school." Dean offered.

John shook his head.

"I'll go."

Until he knew if Simon Ridley was as bad as Sandra said, he would rather the boys stayed out of that store.

**~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~**

Dean leaned next to the door of the middle school, keeping an eye out for Doreen.

"Dean, what did you do?" Sam demanded, appearing next to him.

Taken aback, Dean just stared at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Jerry Stever." Sam stated with a glare.

"Oh. Him," Dean turned and started walking towards the sidewalk, "he still messing with you?"

"That's just it!" Sam vented, "All day he has gone out of his way trying to help me. It's driving me crazy! What did you do to him?"

"I only asked him to stop messing with you in history."

"Right." Sam grumbled. "Because a guy will voluntarily pay for your lunch AND try to carry your books because they were 'asked to'. Did you hit him?"

"Did you see a mark?"

Sam stopped walking, forcing Dean to stop as well.

"Come on Sam, quite messing around."

They were still on school grounds and he had no idea where Doreen was.

"What did you do to Jerry Stever?"

"I just talked to him, now can we go?"

He started to scan the yard, but didn't see Doreen anywhere.

"Just talk?"

"Yes." he growled, spotting Doreen headed their way. "Now let's go."

"What did you say?"

"Can we talk about this later? You know, when Doreen is not RIGHT THERE?"

"Dean," Sam stood his ground. "WHAT did you SAY?"

He was an inch away from throwing Sam over his shoulder and carrying him back to the hotel.

"The threat of maiming may have come up," he said quickly, "now let's go."

Dean turned and rushed down the sidewalk, glaring at his brother's leisurely pace.

"De-an." A sing-song voice called.

On impulse, Dean uprooted the first dandelion he saw and turned around.

"Hey." He grumbled, thrusting the dirt clogged plant into her hands.

"Um, thank you … So, about last night …"

She looked nervously at the ground and Dean sincerely hoped this meant his plan had worked and she was breaking up with him.

"… I think we should try it again."

Dean heard Sam snicker slightly and got a bad feeling when he saw the mischievous grin on his face.

"I'll get out of the way so you two can have some privacy," He started passed them, "just meet me at the end of the block."

"Oh, thanks Sam." Doreen smiled, "you are so sweet,"

"Yeah," Sam looked straight at Dean, "cute as a button."

Translation, payback is a b^&%*.

Dean made a mental note to pummel his brother later; right now he had to get rid of Doreen. So many phrases ran through his head, but he couldn't bring himself to say them. Not because they were mean, but because as hard as he tried to tell her to get out of his face, no sound came out.

"What do you want?" Dean growled, when the words wouldn't come.

"I was thinking we might try another date."

Oh, for the love of God, don't say it!

"Sure," Dean ground out between clenched teeth, "why not."

Someone up there hates me.

"Great! Are you free right now?"

"I have to walk Sam home."

"I'll walk with you." Doreen offered. "Then, after we drop him off, I want you show you the place that makes the best malts. We could take your new car!"

That's it, Dean thought as they headed to join Sam, either this hunt has to end soon … or I am going to go insane.

**~~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam ducked down in the bush so he would be hidden from view. No doubt Dean would kill him for spying, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. Besides, it was good practice … he just hoped his stealth skills were better than Dean's level of observation.

"Are you having a good time?" Doreen asked sweetly.

Dean ignored her, focusing on his meal.

"Dean?"

"What?"

"Are you having a good time?"

"It's great." He mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Sam had the strong sense, he was talking about the hamburger.

"I'm glad," Doreen finger her fries nervously. "because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Sam recognized Dean's muffled response as one that said he wasn't listening, but Doreen took it as a confirmation of attention.

"Well, I know that last night you were just trying to share your interests with me, which is fine, but I think if we are going to make this work, it needs to be a two way street."

Dean gave her and identical grunt, confirming that he wasn't paying attention to anything outside of his plate.

"I'm glad you agree," Doreen reached into her backpack, "so I went to the library and got a few books on psychology and relationships."

Come on Dean, pay attention before you get signed up for couple's therapy.

"I was thinking," Doreen slipped a piece of lined paper across the table, "that we can start by listing the qualities that we like and dislike about each other. Doctors agree that it helps people to see what they need to work on."

Yeah, why don't you work on seeing if a guy is actually interested in you, Doreen.

"I have already started on your list," Doreen smiled, "don't worry; there isn't much about you I don't like."

I think I am going to be sick, Sam thought, envious of Dean for not hearing the comment.

"Dean?"

He mumbled the same response, and Doreen finally seemed to get it.

"Dean! You have not heard a word I said!"

Dean looked up.

"Were you talking?"

She glared at him and put a book next to the paper.

"Read this." She instructed.

Dean glanced at the cover and went back to his French fries.

"Sorry sweetheart, I don't do psychology."

Doreen smile widened and Dean looked confused.

"Dean … you called me sweetheart."

Sam stifled a laugh at the priceless look Dean had on his face, big mistake. Dean turned toward the bush with a glare … he was SO dead.

*** * ***

"Thank you for seeing me again, Madam Majeeda." Sandra sighed, "I must seem so needy to you, coming in so often."

Majeeda smiled sweetly at the thought of the life force she was about to devour.

"No trouble at all, my dear. How are things with John?"

"We are talking it slow, I mean, Dean especially seems uncomfortable with having another woman around."

"Teenage boys do tend to get defensive."

But unfortunately, Majeeda thought to herself, I can only control John through you. Good thing too. If Dean was anything like his father, she would have to use some pretty powerful magic to get him to except Sandra as his new mother. Luckily, once her spells were complete, the kids never had much say in the marriage, but that was a long way off. No need to get ahead of herself.

"So," Majeeda began, "is there anything you would like John to work on?"

"Yes, actually," Sandra said slowly. "He is a truly wonderful man, but he has such a hard exterior."

"So, you want him to look like the gentleman you see inside?"

"Yes, that's it exactly."

Majeeda took her clients hands in preparation.

"Don't worry," She said in a soothing tone, "tomorrow, you will hardly recognize him."

"One more thing," Sandra added hesitantly.

Smiling to hide her grimace, Majeeda made a mental note to cancel any early morning appointments she had. This John was going to run her into the ground.

"I don't want him to just look like it, I want him to be it, act like the man I know he is."

She sent her client a confused look. The original spell should keep him from acting against her.

"What do you mean, dear?"

Sandra gave her a determined look.

"I want him to back me up when dealing with the boys."

* * *

That's all for now. On the bright side, I am almost done writing chapter 12 and I'll post the next three as soon as I get them back from my editor. :)

In the meantime, I would love to here what you think. :)


	9. Chapter 9

I am SO sorry for how long this took. My editor has just been swamped since this college term started and has had very little free time.

Anyway, I hope you like it ...

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Sam woke to the sound of the shower running. Opening his eyes to see Dean sprawled across his bed, he pushed off the covers and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast. Opening the cupboard Sam sighed when he noticed the cereal was on the top shelf. His dad was over six feet and Dean wasn't far behind, how long was he going to stay short? Standing on his tiptoes, his fingers brushed against the box, pushing it farther on the shelf. Muttering a curse, Sam was just about to get a chair when a long arm reached over his head, pulling out the cereal.

"Hey Sam, get me a bowl would you?" Dean asked, ruffling Sam's hair.

Sam shot his brother a glare, smoothing his hair out with both hands. Snatching a couple of bowls and spoons from the rack by the sink, he joined his brother at the table.

"Thanks Sammy." Dean grinned, filling his bowl. "You'll make someone a great wife someday."

"Shut up jerk." Sam muttered, taking some food for himself.

"B^&*%." Dean mumbled around a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

He tried to glare at Dean's cocky grin, but found it hard knowing that Dean was only trying to help … in a twisted older brother sort of way.

Sam didn't look up when he heard the bathroom door open and his dad enter the kitchen … a sweet, clean, scent followed him in. Sam glanced at John as he sat down next to them wearing a button up shirt and slacks, hair neatly combed, and clean shaven.

"You're looking spiffy." Dean commented. "Interviewing someone?"

"No." John growled, glaring at his coffee.

Dean raised an eyebrow and Sam bit his tongue. It was the swearing thing all over again. Sam didn't feel like running today, but still …

"I told you not to wear jeans on your date." Sam smirked.

"Should've listened to him." Dean added.

John sent them a cold glare, but it wasn't enough to stop the snickering.

"Be patient Dean," John looked down at his paper, "Doreen will make you her little Ken doll soon enough."

Dean's smile instantly vanished and Sam started shoveling cereal in his mouth to hide his grin. It wasn't that he liked that his family was being controlled … but he had to admit it was hilarious.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean watched the clock, just waiting for the bell to ring. He didn't care about some stupid drama exercise, even if it was one third of his final grade. He wasn't going to be around long enough to get a report card, so what was it to him if he failed? If he could get Sam and get out fast, it would be another full day of being able to ditch Doreen. When it finally came, Dean was the first one out the door. But when he got outside, he frowned at the lack of middle schoolers. Not a single one was out of the building and a large van was parked near the side door.

"Hey Dean!"

Great, Dean thought, yanking up the nearest weed. He turned to see Doreen had brought friends. Three guys and two more girls trailed along beside her.

"Sorry, I can't hang out today," Doreen said sadly, taking the uprooted plant. "We have a tournament coming up and need to practice."

Dean nodded, watching as the chess team swept over him with a scrutinizing gaze. The girls appeared to like what they saw, and who could blame them, but the guys had a look of distrust in their eye, like Dean was an intruder or something.

"Oh," Doreen said suddenly, "I'm being rude. Dean this is Alvin, Tom, Bridget, Jason, and Leah. Guys this is Dean."

He inwardly cringed at the way she said his name in a dreamy tone. Bridget and Leah smiled at him, the former clearly wishing Doreen had not seen him first … Dean secretly glad she did. The chess club queen was bad enough, but Bridget's coke bottle glasses and buck teeth almost made Doreen's classic geek look chic. Leah, thankfully, looked too shy to string a sentence together with cue cards. Tom and Jason just nodded, taking an almost big brother type pose, not so effective for Tom since it looked like he skipped a grade … or three. Alvin, however, was going for an intimidating posture, and it might have worked … if he grew six more inches, doubled his body weight, and lost the argyle sweater-vest.

"Whatever," Dean shrugged, not caring what the geek squad thought of him. "What's going on here?"

He jerked his thumb towards the middle school and saw half the chess kids actually shudder.

"They are getting more books." Bridget whispered.

Dean's stare switched from them, to the van, and back to them.

"You're kidding me right?"

As one, the entire chess club team's jaws dropped. Doreen was the first to recover.

"Dean, I know you're new in town, but haven't you heard of … Simon Ridley?"

Dean frowned at the fearful way she said his name. They may be a bunch of nerds, but if this guy was scaring them this much, he wasn't sure he liked the idea of him being in Sam's school.

"Simon Ridley murdered his family last year." Tom squeaked.

"That was never proven." Jason pointed out.

Dean looked back toward the van and saw a pale man in a black sweater pull a box out of the back and carry it into the school.

"What has been proven?" Dean asked, turning back to the chess team.

"Last year the whole Ridley family died, except Simon." Doreen explained. "No one really knows what happened."

"Some say they died in an accident," Bridget answered, "boating, I think. There were fish involved."

"Others," Doreen looked at Tom, "think he killed them."

"Either in a psychotic rampage or made them a human sacrifice, no one knows for sure."

Tom spoke slowly for dramatic effect, but it didn't really work out since puberty made him sound like Micky Mouse on helium.

"All we know is, they are dead and he went crazy." Jason summed up.

"Crazy, how?" Dean wondered, as Simon came out for another load.

"Devil worship." Tom muttered.

To Dean's surprise no one corrected him.

"Wait, you're serious?"

"Very." Doreen whispered, as if Simon could hear them from across the school yard, "Simon claims some … THING killed his family. He started reading books on the dark arts. He put up a whole lot of weird symbols in his shop, until the community made him take them down. He buys herbs and stuff, burns incense, mixes potions … creepy stuff."

"He's a mad man." Tom added.

The group went silent and Dean saw Simon looking their way. Not one to back down, Dean met his bloodshot gaze. The guy looked like a junkie, but any number of evil things could have the same effect.

"His book store is the main donor to the school libraries." Jason continued, "but the teachers are all afraid of him, since-"

"He went nuts." Tom finished. "They keep the kids in their classrooms until he leaves."

Dean watched Simon come back out to his van and close up the back. For once he didn't mind school rules. They didn't have time to figure out Simon Ridley now; not with their current hunt driving them all up the wall. But until they knew more, he was happy to keep Simon away from Sam.

**~~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam impatiently tapped his pencil on his desk. School should have been out five minutes ago, but the bell had yet to ring. The teacher just kept prattling on about Shakespeare and Sam was beginning to wonder if he was the only one who noticed the delay. Just when he thought the lecture would never end, he heard the sweet sound of freedom.

"Hold it class." Mrs. Ivy said, holding up her hands. "One more thing."

Sam suppressed a groan. Dean had a tendency to freak out when he was late. Mrs. Ivy smiled at the class, her eyes sparkling with excitement, while Sam tried to determine if he would like what she was about to say.

"As part of our Shakespearian studies, we are going to team up with my friend Mr. Tucker, who teaches English next door, to put on our own theatrical performance."

Sam racked his brain, trying to remember where he had heard that name before.

"Each of you," Mrs. Ivy went on, "will be paired up with one of the sophomores in Mr. Tucker's class and the two of you will write a short skit to be performed in front of the whole school next Friday. That gives you all a little over a week."

Wait a minute, Sam suddenly remembered, Mr. Tucker is Dean's English teacher.

"Mr. Tucker and I will make a list and you will be given you partner's name tomorrow. Class dismissed."

Sam pushed past the other kids to get to his teacher's desk.

"Mrs. Ivy?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"Is there a Dean Winchester in that class?"

"Let's see," she murmured, scanning a list of names on her desk. "Yes, here we are, Dean Winchester."

"Well, that's my brother," Sam explained, "and I was wondering if he could be my partner? Since we live together and all, it will be easy to practice."

He turned on the puppy dog eyes and she smiled at him.

"Of course, Dean can be your partner. It's good for siblings to work together."

Sam thanked her and caught sight of the clock, realizing how long Dean had to have been waiting. He was halfway out the room when a kid stepped in front of him. He paused, waiting for the guy to move on and stop blocking the door, when he looked up and saw who it was … Jerry Stever.

"Hey Sam," the taller boy said with a nervous smile, "you in a hurry?"

"Yes." Sam muttered, hurrying around him so he could get to his locker.

While he dialed in the combination, Jerry leaned on the locker right next to him.

"I'll help you carry you books out," he offered. "Might make the trip faster."

"Jerry," Sam hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder, "I don't know what my brother said to you, but he is not going to do it. Okay?"

Sam slammed his locker shut and raced toward the door. He was already ten minutes late; Dean was going to kill him.

Once outside, Sam braced himself for Dean's anger, but was surprised at how calm his brother was.

"Ready to go?"

Sam gave him a puzzled look and nodded. Dean casually headed to the sidewalk, back towards the motel. Sam rushed to catch up and studied his brother carefully. Alert as ever, but not looking around anymore than usual, with a mood that was almost cheerful.

"Cristo." Sam whispered, causing Dean to roll his eyes.

"I'm not possessed, Sammy. I'm just enjoying the first day I don't have to worry about Doreen."

Sam's eyes widened as he turned to look up at Dean.

"You broke her control!"

"I wish." He muttered, "I said I didn't have to worry, not that I was free."

"Then what happened?"

"She has some match coming up or something like that." Dean shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. I just hope it keeps her busy for a while."

"So," Sam sighed, "I guess now we just have to worry about Sandra."

Dean scowled at the name. It was hard to tell who was more bothered by Sandra, his dad or his brother.

**~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

"Darn it."

John pounded his fist on the door to the bookstore, right above the sign promising to 'be back soon'. Checking his watch, he debated how long he was willing to wait, when a voice called out to him.

"John!"

He turned to see Sandra's smiling face.

"Wow, John. You look great. What cologne is that?"

The first one I grabbed off the f*&%^ing shelf, John thought to himself, glaring at the way she checked him over like a prize show dog.

"Don't know." He muttered.

"Well, whatever it is, it's great. Are you waiting for Mr. Ridley?"

No s&%^ lady. John tried just locking his jaw and walking away.

"Hey John, wait a sec." She grabbed his arm. "I just want to talk."

John turned and noticed Simon was back and opening the door to his store. John just walked passed Sandra and headed for the back corner where Sam had found the spell book. Sandra followed, but appeared unaware of what section they were in.

"John, I know this isn't really my place to say, but I think you are too lenient on your boys."

Now THAT got his attention.

"Lenient?"

"I know you love them, but a firm hand is important in a child's development. It's not too late to teach Dean discipline …"

John tuned her out and scanned the titles on the shelf. If there was one thing the boys DIDN'T need it was more discipline.

She continued to talk while John looked over the books, trying to find one that might help them clear this whole mess up. He pulled out a book of the witchcraft of Ireland, trying to remember where the Irish settled when a shriek got his attention.

"John!"

He glanced up at the look of horror of her face and almost smiled. Looks like she notice what section they were in.

"PLEASE tell me that is not for SAM!"

John wondered what answer would give him a better reaction, but decided to just silently buy the book. Heading towards the check out, John made sure he had enough cash to cover the purchase.

"John, you CAN'T encourage this," Sandra exclaimed, joining him at the counter. "Do you know what kind of people read this stuff?"

Before he could answer, they heard a grunt. John looked up to see Simon Ridley giving Sandra a cool glance, before turning his way.

"Cash or credit?"

John handed him cash and Sandra turned away from the shopkeeper.

"John, be reasonable." Sandra whispered, as if that would help, "do you really want your son to grow up to be a … a devil worshiper?"

He pocketed his change, grabbed his book, and left. The day Sam became a devil worshiper was the day Dean became a monk.

*** * ***

Majeeda plastered a smile on her face when she heard the bead curtain rustle; hoping Sandra hadn't come back yet. Still recovering from last nights spell, she needed someone easy and was relived to see it was just one of the love stuck teenagers.

"Hello Doreen," she said brightly, "did Dean get a new car."

"Yes, and it's ADORABLE."

Majeeda smiled for real. At least one spell was going right.

"So, what can I do for you today, my dear?"

"Well, I was thinking …"

Inwardly cringing at the look of doubt on the girl's face, Majeeda thought quickly.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can be fixed."

"It's just … his priorities seem to be off."

"You want him to value you, above everything else?"

"Well … yes." Doreen admitted. "And would it kill him to uses terms of endearment?"

Her smile lessened slightly, so much for her an easy night. The endearment thing was no problem, but to make someone the most important thing in a person's life … that was tricky without being obvious. Good thing it was a teenage boy, she thought as she prepared for the incantation, it shouldn't be too hard. In fact, she knew exactly how to do it.

"Don't worry dear," Majeeda closed her eyes, "he will show you how much he cares, and call you nothing but sweet things from now on."

* * *

Alright, even though my editor has been to busy to edit, I have not been to busy to write. So, the next 6 chapters are written and I'll post as soon as Fae gets done with them, and I will finish chapter 16 just as soon as I can. :)

In the meantime reviews are encouragement, so please let me know how I am doing. :)


	10. Chapter 10

So, my amazing and fantastic editor got me 3 chapters today, so remember to thank the fabulous Fae for the quick update. :)

Anyway, here is the results of Majeeda's last spell ...

* * *

**Chapter 10**

"Dean!" Sam whined, reaching for the remote.

Dean grinned, dangling the object just out of his little brother's reach. There were some advantages to being taller, such as the fact you could mess with your little brother without having to get off the couch.

"It's for school," Sam pleaded, "I have to watch it."

"No you don't." Dean countered. "It's just a stupid show on bugs, and it's not like we're going to be here long enough for your grade to matter."

"Grades transfer, ya jerk." Sam glared, climbing over Dean's head.

Seeing Sam wince when he leaned on his bandaged wrist, Dean decided to cave before the kid hurt himself. Tossing the remote to his brother, he messed up his hair.

"Whatever, Buttercup."

Dean froze, trying to understand what just happened, while Sam was staring at him in shock.

"Dude!" Sam exclaimed finding his voice. "I can't BELIEVE you called me that!"

"Sorry, honey, I didn't-"

Dean clasped his hand over his mouth; first the poetry, then the car, now this? When will this humiliation end? The brothers shared a look before yelling in unison.

"Dad!"

John came out of the bathroom and glanced back and forth between the boys.

"What's going on?"

"Dad, something is wrong with Dean."

"What?"

"I called Sam honey."

John gave him a puzzled look.

"You called him WHAT?"

"Honey," Sam answered, "and Buttercup too."

Impulsively, Dean ran his hand through Sam's hair.

"Sweetie, let me-"

He stopped when he saw the look on Sam's face.

"Ya see!?" Dean said, turning back to John. "I mean, what the h%*^, Dad?"

John just stood there for a second before pulling out his phone.

"Oh crap!" Sam groaned.

"What?" Dean asked, wondering what could make this worse.

Sam looked at him in horror.

"Next week you and I have to do a skit … in front of my SCHOOL."

D#*% it! He forgot about that. There was no way on earth he was calling his brother "sweetie" in front of that many people.

"We'll just have to be done with the hunt by then." John stated, waiting for an answer.

"What about class?" Sam questioned, "we have to do that together too."

Dean thought about it, but came up empty. Sam didn't have an idea either.

"Bobby? It's me." John said into the phone. "Get your butt down to Berryville, Arkansas and bring a doctor's note for Dean … he has to have laryngitis."

**~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~**

No sooner had he left the message for Bobby then someone knocked on the door.

"Now what?" He muttered as Sam hurried over to the door.

Sam peaked through the key hole.

"D*^% it," he groaned, "it's Sandra."

Oh why did he have to say it, John thought as that familiar feeling took hold.

"Open the door."

His boys sent him pleading looks, silently begging him to take it back. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't turn her away.

"Do it Sam."

"But Dad, she has a baking dish."

"Just open the darn door." He ordered through clenched teeth.

Reluctantly, Sam complied, letting Sandra in.

"Hi Sam."

She tucked a casserole dish under her arm and reached out to hug him, but backed off when Dean took a threatening step forward.

"Dean, you should know I wouldn't hurt your brother."

Dean continued to glare moving between Sandra and Sam. She shot John an exasperated look.

"John, can you please tell him hugging is okay."

No, John thought, fighting the feeling as it grew stronger. He would not give up control of his sons, not to anyone … but the pull was too strong.

"Dean …" he grunted, "let her hug Sam."

Dean's face was a blend of emotions, anger and shock overpowering the rest, but he stood his ground. He admired Dean's natural tendency to protect his brother, but Sandra's control was almost overwhelming.

"Dean, move."

"No."

Sandra took a step forward, and John couldn't stop her.

"Now Dean," She said sternly, "you need to listen to your father when-"

"Back the h%&^ up, b#$*%."

John wished he could laugh at the look on her face.

"Dean!" She scolded, setting her stuff down on the coffee table and placing her hands on her hips. "You are taking this way too far."

"Lady, I'm just getting warmed up."

Sandra turned her gaze to John, who at that moment wanted nothing more than to punch her in the face.

"I think this is something you should talk to Dean about … privately."

When he felt the sudden urge to go outside John tried to fight it. He was not about to leave Sam in the hotel with Sandra.

"Dean." John muttered, heading for the door.

Dean nodded and started to follow, taking Sam with him. Smiling, John held the door for both his son's.

"It's better if I talk to both of them." John said quickly, before she was able to protest.

"Fine," Sandra nodded, "but don't take too long. I made something special for you."

Great, John thought, closing the door behind him.

"What the h$^% was that, Dad!" Dean demanded.

"Her control is growing Dean, I can't stop it."

He could tell Dean was fuming at what had just happened, and he didn't blame him.

"You were going kinda far for a hug, Dean." Sam mumbled.

Dean put his hands on either side of Sam's face, looking him right in the eye.

"Dearest, if she is dangerous, I'm not letting her anywhere near you."

Sam looked at Dean, shifting awkwardly under his gaze. Dean picked up on it and backed off.

"Dean?" John questioned, wondering what was going on with his son.

"I don't know, Dad." Dean confessed. "It's like with Doreen. I just … I CAN'T let anything happen to Sammy."

"Dean, you never let anything happen to me."

"If only that were true, precious."

John sighed, wishing he could just grab the boys and run. Get away from Sandra, Doreen, this whole freaking case … but to do that would kill Dean and leave Sam alone. He slammed his fist into the wall, frustrated at his own helplessness. He should have called Bobby in the first place, at least then there would be someone who could take care of the boys as Sandra took control.

"It's gonna be okay, Dad." Dean promised him.

John wasn't convinced, but Dean just gave him a cocky grin.

"The way I'm feeling right now," Dean shrugged, "she tries anything … I'll just shoot her."

**~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam was last to reenter the hotel room and wasn't liking the smell that greeted him.

"Holy s&%*^!" Dean pulled his shirt over his nose. "What died in here?"

"Dean, didn't your father talk to you about respect?"

"Lots of times." Dean voice was muffled by his shirt, "why do you ask?"

Sandra sent John a look and Sam couldn't help but wonder if her power was telepathic.

"Dean behave." John muttered, stacking up his case notes.

Dean pulled his shirt down, but the chance of him doing anymore then that was slim to none. Sandra set plates around the table and place a bag of salad in the middle. So far so good, Sam thought, but he was a little uneasy to find out what that smell was.

"I remembered how much you liked the stir fry so …"

Oh, please God, no. Not again.

"Here you are."

She proudly placed a dish full of some sort of splotchy purple and green casserole in the center of the table. Dean took a hold of Sam's shoulder, turning him away from the food.

"Don't look, I don't want you to see Barney like this."

"Dean." Sandra said in a warning tone, "I'll have you know this is my award winning purple cauliflower tofu bake with spinach."

"Yeah," Sam muttered, "the most colorful vomit award."

Dean snickered while Sandra gave him a disapproving look before turning to his dad.

"This is what I was talking about at the bookstore, John."

John sent her his own glare that shut her up on the subject. Instead she focused on dishing them up.

"Now I expect all of you to eat every bite."

Sam caught the grimace that crossed his dad's face. Oh crap! He HAD to eat it now and, more than likely, had to try to make them eat it too! Tugging on Dean's sleeve he subtly motioned to his dad and signaled his fears. Dean got the message and took the seat John had the last time, right next to the trash can, problem solved. John, gratefully took Dean's old seat and Sam sat in between them.

Good thing Sandra had not finished making dessert, otherwise she would have been watching them the whole meal. As it was Sam had to take his dad's plate from him and hand him the one from Dean, since John was unable to give it up freely. The biggest difference was, Dean scraped more food each time then John did. Sandra didn't notice, she just talked the whole time. Sam wasn't really listening, but he thought she mentioned something about the park and games.

"Do you play sports, Sammy?"

"His name is Sam." Dean muttered.

"But I've heard you both call him Sammy." Sandra looked puzzled.

"WE are his family," Dean pointed out, "YOU'RE not."

Sam thought he saw sadness in Sandra's eyes, strange for someone who is exerting supernatural control over someone else.

"Alright, I suppose that is a privilege I'll just have to earn." Sandra said, getting up to check on the dessert.

"Don't hold your breath." Dean mumbled, just load enough for Sam to hear.

Sam turned his attention to his salad. He was poking a large piece of broccoli when Dean suddenly leaned over with his knife and fork, cutting it in half.

"Dean." He whispered, pushing his brother's hands away before he moved on the cucumbers.

"Sorry, sweetheart" Dean sighed, "It … it looked too big."

"There is nothing wrong with your brother helping you." Sandra pointed out, rejoining them.

Sam agreed, he loved that Dean always had his back … he just didn't need it with his vegetables. The second Sandra's back was turned, the broccoli was the first thing in the trash.

**~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

There, Dean thought as the last of the monstrosity she called dinner slipped from his plate and into the trash. He was going to have to make sure Sandra left soon; Sam needed to get some real food in him.

"Who's ready for desert?" Sandra asked cheerfully.

If it's jam tarts again, I'm gonna …

"Ta da."

Dean stared at the dish in front of him, trying to figure out what exactly was in it. He knew what the sliced almonds were, but the white lump, brown things, and sauce was a different story.

"You made us regurgitated dog food?" Dean said, poking one of the brown pieces with his fork.

"Dean," Sandra frowned, "what I have served is a very health dessert."

"Okay," Dean shrugged, "healthy regurgitated dog food."

Sam ducked his head to hide his snickering, but Sandra sent a disapproving look his way. Dean suddenly had the urge to jump up and shield Sam, but managed to stay in his seat.

"It's called Marsala Poached Figs Over Ricotta."

Dean continued to stare at the dish, thinking about what he could do to get her to turn around so that he could dump it with the rest of the food.

"Come on," Sandra coaxed, digging into her own bowl, "You ate the fruit tarts without this much trouble."

"Yeah, well, the fruit tarts resembled actual food." Dean pointed out, pushing the bowl away.

"You know John," Sandra put down her fork and stood up. "I think I should leave now. You clearly have a lot to talk about with your son and it would be easier if I was not in the way."

Finally she gets it, Dean thought as Sandra gathered her coat and purse.

"I'll come back for my dishes later."

She moved behind John, who stiffened when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Talk to him." She whispered, before letting go.

Dean tensed when she approached Sam.

"Can I get a hug goodbye?" She asked sweetly, holding out her arms.

"No." Dean answered for his brother.

"Dean, I think Sam can speak or himself."

"And I think I can kick you a$&," Dean glared, "doesn't mean I will."

She just stared at Dean with her mouth hanging open for several seconds before she recovered. Shaking her head, she slipped on her coat and left.

*** * ***

Majeeda peeked past her beaded curtain and groaned. Sandra again, and she didn't look happy. Reminding herself of the sweet taste of life force, Majeeda forced a smile and made her way to where her client waited.

"Good evening, my dear. Is John still causing you trouble?"

"Oh no," Sandra's eyes grew wide, "John is wonderful."

Good, Majeeda thought. If she had to up the power level again she wouldn't be able to get out of bed for days.

"But Dean …" Sandra continued, "I just don't know what to do with him."

Too bad she couldn't fix that, but then again, with a father like John, Majeeda wasn't sure she wanted to try. Taking Sandra by the hand she led her to the table in the back.

"Don't worry about him, he'll come around." She said in a soothing voice. "Just give him time."

"I suppose you're right." Sandra sighed, sitting in one of the wooden chairs. "I'm sure he is a great kid, but he just has such an attitude."

"He's a teenage boy, that's just the way they are."

"I know," Sandra nodded, "and that brings me to why I am here. I am worried about John and the boys. Did you know they are living out of duffel bags in a rundown motel?"

Uh-oh, looks like John may not be staying very long. There goes the life force. Unless …

"That's terrible," Majeeda commented. "If only they had a better place to live."

"I know." Sandra agreed. "I mean, if John is still looking for a place, he can stay with me. It would be cheaper, and then I could cook for them all the time."

Majeeda smiled, that was just what she wanted to hear.

"Sounds perfect."

* * *

They are SO not going to likethis. Anyway, I have the next two chapters, I am just waiting to see if people are still likeing this story before I post. (Was a bit discouraged at the lack of response from the last chapter.)

Anyway, let me know what you think and I'll put the next part up. :)


	11. Chapter 11

So, I got a few reviews asking for more, so I hurried and got this up. :)

I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

John looked up from his journal and rubbed his eyes. Glancing over he saw Sam engrossed in the new book while Dean was trying to lose himself in a movie. John was just about to check his watch when Dean spoke up.

"Time for bed, pumpkin."

"If I go, will you stop calling me pumpkin?"

"Sure, honey."

"You did that on purpose."

"I swear I didn't."

"Boys!" John barked, "knock it off and get to bed."

Sam grabbed his duffel and headed into the bathroom. When he emerged a few minutes later, Dean flipped off the TV.

"Did you brush your teeth?"

"Why do you care?"

"I wish I knew." Dean mumbled, taking his turn in the bathroom.

Sam put his book on the nightstand and climbed under the covers.

"Dad?" He asked tentatively. "Are you any closer to figuring out how they are controlling you?"

John sighed, looking over his notes.

"I'll figure it out."

Sam nodded and slipped into bed just as Dean came out of the bathroom. John noticed him pause by his brother's bed, staring at him for a minute. After shaking off whatever he had been feeling, Dean climbed beneath the floral comforter and switched off the lamp, leaving only the kitchen light for John to read by.

"For a second there, I thought you were going to try and tuck me in." Sam murmured from the shadows.

"For a second there, I was." Dean snorted. "Goodnight sweetie."

An hour later, John was startled by his phone ringing. Checking to make sure it didn't wake the boys, he flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"What the h&%^ do you mean Dean HAS to have laryngitis?"

"Bobby, hey." John said quietly. "How long until you get here?"

"I'm on my way, so if I drive all night I should get there about lunchtime tomorrow."

"Darn. I was hoping you could make it before the boys left for school."

"John … did you just say darn?"

"It's this fudging hunt."

"Fudging?"

"Just get here." John growled, hanging up the phone.

With one last weary glance over his notes, he stretched out on the couch. Hopefully Bobby had some idea what they were dealing with … or at least would be able to take care of the boys when Sandra's control was complete.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

"Dad, with everything going on, do you think I could skip school today?"

"Nice try Dean." John responded without looking up from his journal.

Worth a shot, he thought to himself as he took another bite of cereal. He started buttering a slice of toast for his brother, when he noticed milk dripping down Sam's chin. Without thinking, he reached for a napkin to wipe his face.

"Dean." Sam whined shoving his hands away.

"I can't help it, sugar."

"Eww, that's what you call girls."

"And?" Dean smirked.

"Dad!"

"Dean, leave your brother alone."

"Would if I could." Dean sighed, bringing his bowl to the sink.

"When is Bobby gonna get here?" Sam asked.

"Around lunch time; until then try not to talk to him. And you," he looked up at Dean, "don't talk at all."

"Right, laryngitis. Got it."

The walk to school was one long struggle. Dean kept instinctively grabbing Sam's hand every time they crossed the street and he had to force himself to not react when they past a chained up Pit Bull. Man, it was like his big brother senses were locked into overdrive. Everywhere he looked he saw danger and all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around Sam and keep him safe.

Finally they got to school and Dean had never been so happy to get to math class.

"Hey Dean." The boy behind him smiled.

Dean was about to respond when he suddenly remembered.

"Hey Tony." He rasped quietly.

"Dude, what happened to your voice?"

"Laryngitis."

"Man that bites. Especially with the dance on Friday."

Wow, that did suck. Dean had been so busy with the hunt and dodging Doreen, he had almost forgotten. He grimaced at the thought of dancing with the chess club queen.

"You taking Doreen?" Tony teased, knowing full well how Dean felt about her.

Dean didn't have to say anything as he glared at his classmate. Tony swallowed and looked down, pretending to be suddenly busy with his homework.

"I guess not." Tony murmured.

But Dean had a sinking feeling that if they didn't fix this soon; he was going to need a tux.

**~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam closed his locker and turned to see Jerry Stever right behind him.

"Hey Sam."

"Jerry," he groaned, "if you don't leave me alone I will be the one to kick you a$^."

"No, it's not like that," Jerry held up his hands, "I just had a question."

Sam checked his watch and shook his head.

"Ask me later. I have to go meet my brother for English."

"That's what I wanted to ask you about."

"English?"

"No, your brother. Is he really dating Doreen Swinburn?"

Sam groaned and headed for his next class, not in the mood to deal with Jerry or anyone asking about his family. Unfortunately, the kid stayed right behind him.

"Well is it true or not?" Jerry asked, pushing past some people to keep up with Sam.

"Why does it even matter?" Sam snapped.

Jerry opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off.

"Are you bothering my brother again?"

Jerry paled when Dean approached.

"N-no … I … I gotta go."

He took off and Sam didn't know if he was more relived or annoyed at his brother's appearance.

"I can take care of myself, Dean."

"Sure you can, sweetheart."

"And you're not supposed to talk." Sam whispered as they walked into the classroom.

Sam led the way to Mrs. Ivy's desk, where she was busy talking to a middle aged man, Sam assumed was Mr. Tucker.

"Yes Sam?" She asked, looking up from her papers.

"My brother got laryngitis over the weekend. He is not allowed to talk."

"Oh no." She sent Dean a look of sympathy.

"Do you have a doctor's note?" Mr. Tucker questioned.

Dean pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the teacher.

"And did Dr. Singer have any other instructions?"

"No, but Dean has to rest his voice for two weeks."

Mr. Tucker turned the note back over to Dean and Mrs. Ivy gave them a small smile.

"Well I guess you will have to do enough talking for both of you, Sam."

Sam smiled back and headed to an open table in the back. At least they had this problem solved.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

John and Bobby sat at the table in the hotel scanning through all the notes. Despite the serious nature of the hunt, Bobby wouldn't stop smiling.

"What?" John muttered.

"It's just …" Bobby smirked, "you smell pretty."

"Are you going to help or not?" John glared at his friend.

Bobby raised his hands and went back to work, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

"John?"

The voice brought back the familiar feeling and John grudgingly opened the door.

"Hi John- oh, I didn't realize you had company."

She send Bobby a small smile before turning back to John.

"I just came by to pick up my baking dish."

Nodding, John headed to the kitchen, grabbed the thing off the counter, and thrust it in her arms.

"Here."

She peeked under the lid and frowned.

"You didn't eat anymore?"

I didn't eat any to start with, John thought, sitting back at the table.

"Well … I guess I'll be leaving now."

John focused on his papers listening to her footsteps get closer to the door.

"John …"

So close.

"I'm worried about the boys."

John glance up, wondering where she was going with this, and more importantly, how it would affect them. She stood by the door fingering her dish nervously.

"The boys are fine." He said firmly.

"Look, I know you are doing the best you can... but I just … I don't think a hotel is the best environment to raise your kids."

He agreed with her there, but their lives didn't include the luxury of a picket fence.

"I guess what I am trying to say is … I'd like you and the boys to stay with me until you find something better."

Raising his kids in a crater on the moon would be preferable to her place … but that feeling took hold again and John locked his jaw, looking to Bobby for help.

"That won't be necessary." Bobby explained. "John's only staying until his work in town is done."

"In that case it works out perfectly." Sandra smiled. "I have a guest room and a spare bed in the office for you guys to use. I'll go get them set up if you want."

John fought it as hard as he could, but in the end …

"We'll be there tonight."

"Great. That will also give me time to get dinner started. See you tonight."

She rushed out and John pounded his fist into the table.

"Mush!"

**~~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam walked out of English and headed to his locker.

"Wow, Mrs. Ivy is the perkiest teacher I have ever seen." Dean commented.

"You're not supposed to talk." Sam muttered, pulling out his homework.

Dean grinned at a pretty girl who went past with her partner.

"Hi." She smiled coyly.

Dean opened his mouth to answer when Sam shoved his backpack into his brother's arms, shooting him a look to stay quiet. They were too close to the classroom and couldn't risk a teacher finding out the doctor's note was fake. Of course he soon saw that his method of helping backfired when Dean carried the bag out.

"I can carry my own backpack."

Dean shook his head, silently slinging the bag over one shoulder. Sam sighed in frustration. What else could go wrong today?

"Hi Dean. Hi Sam."

Curse the Winchester luck.

"Hey Doreen." Sam sighed.

Dean ripped up the closest dandelion and handed it to her.

"Thanks Dean," She smiled. "Um … can I talk to you for a second?"

Dean looked at Sam, clearly fighting the urge to talk.

"He can't talk." He stated. "He has laryngitis."

"Oh no." Doreen sounded just like Mrs. Ivy. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, he'll be fine. He just can talk for two weeks."

"That's too bad." She pouted, "but at least it explains why you didn't ask me to the dance."

Sam noticed Dean clenching his fists, signaling they had to get out of there before he lost control.

"You know, if you want to, we can still go. The whole team will be there and we were hoping for a group photo."

"I'd love to." Dean said quickly.

Sam groaned inwardly as Doreen gave Dean a stern look.

"Wait a minute; you don't sound like you have laryngitis to me."

Noticing his brother was at a loss for words, or more likely just couldn't say what he was thinking, Sam cut in with the first thing that came to his mind.

"It's my fault."

"You?"

"Yeah … um … we are working on a drama project together and I'm too shy to do it, so Dean is pretending to have laryngitis to help me out."

"Oh," Doreen paused, a smile spread across her face, "That is so sweet."

Crap, Sam thought, I think I just made it worse.

"That is so selfless of you to risk your grade for your brother. You really are a knight in shining armor."

Dean glared down at Sam who offered up an apologetic smile.

"Well I have to be going. Would you like me to make you any soup or something?" Doreen offered. "We have a new juicer at home."

"No." Dean growled.

She seemed surprised at his tone.

"Um, okay. See you two later."

Sam shifted under Dean's harsh gaze.

"You are one dead sugarplum."

*** * ***

Majeeda smoothed her black table cloth, preparing for her next client. After three simple spells gave her just as many days of life force, she was ready to even take on John. She cheerfully headed out front where Doreen was waiting.

"Hello my dear." she said sweetly. "How are you doing today?"

"Well … I was a little confused about something."

Frowning, Majeeda ushered the teenager into the back room.

"What is troubling you, child?"

"It's Dean … I think he is upset with me."

That didn't make sense. She had cast a double spell on him, the strength alone should make him comply. Motioning for the girl to sit, Majeeda took her seat.

"Why would you think he is mad at you?"

"Well, you said he would call me sweet things, but he was really short with me, angry even."

Majeeda thought back to the last spell. The first half was that Doreen would be the most important person in his world. There were two spells that could do it, but one was obvious and the other was rather tricky. The first simply made the client more important then anything, but tended to backfire. The second was making the client more important then the most important person in the subject's life. Teenage boys made this one easy because, deep down, they were the center of their own universe; so she made Doreen more important to Dean than himself. Next she cast a spell that he would shower the most important person in his life with affection, physically showing how much he cares. It wasn't the first time she did either spell, so why hadn't they worked?

"So … did he call you anything?"

"No, he just gave me flowers and agreed to be my date to the school dance."

"See? Clearly he wasn't THAT mad if he gave you flowers."

Obviously he is fighting it, so the fact the last spell didn't work could just mean it was just not strong enough.

"Then why isn't it working? Everything else is … except the poetry. He hasn't given a single sonnet."

"Well … love is a tricky thing." Majeeda said slowly. "Let's just try again."

"So you don't think he was mad at me?"

"Oh, I'm sure he was just having a bad day." She assured her. "It will be fine."

Doreen nodded and they started the ritual. If Majeeda wasn't going to let John defy her power, there was no way she was would let a d$^% teenager get away with it. He would make Doreen feel like a princess … poetry and all.

* * *

I hope that explains the spell mix up. I have the next chapter back from my editor and I'll post as soon as I can. (I still have to finish a chapter of "Bad Mojo" before I go to bed since I promised those readers I would post today.)

In the meantime, I would love to hear from you. :)


	12. Chapter 12

Okay here is the next part. Enjoy ...

**

* * *

Chapter 12**

Dean walked up to the hotel, pausing when he saw John putting their bags in the trunk.

"Dad?" Sam asked slowly.

"We're moving." John grumbled.

"Where?" Dean questioned, eying their stuff.

When he didn't answer Dean just knew.

"H*&^ no Dad," he stated firmly, "we are not staying with that controlling b^$&#."

"Dean, I didn't have a choice."

"Why can't Dean and I stay here with Bobby?" Sam suggested.

But the look on his face told him Sandra's hold was too strong for that.

"Get in the car." John ordered, taking the last bag out.

Dean could feel the war inside him as his almost overwhelming desire to protect Sam battled his obligation to obey John for control. But everything else faded when he saw the angry look on his brother's face.

"Dearest? Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not!" Sam snapped. "Why didn't you listen when I told you not to come here? If you had listened none of this would have happened!"

A wave of guilt crashed over him and Dean was unable to keep his thoughts to himself.

"I'm sorry, precious. I wish you didn't have to go through this."

"Dean, I don't care about me-"

"I do." Dean interrupted. "And I swear I will get you through this. Nothing is going to happen to you, not if I can help it."

Sam sighed and nodded. Slumping in the back, he pulled the door closed before Dean could adjust his seat-belt.

All too soon they pulled up to a sage green, two story house. A large oak tree overlooked the manicured yard and a stone path led to the large covered porch. It was picture perfect … this was going to suck. Sam had just opened the car door when Sandra came out of the house to meet them.

"Hi guys," she smiled, "I'm so glad you came. Do you need any help carrying things in?"

"No." John answered gruffly, handing the boys their stuff.

This was one of the good things about not having a permanent home, everything Dean owned fit in two duffel bags.

"Okay," Sandra nodded, ushering them inside, "I set up the guest room upstairs for the boys, John you can have the bonus room."

After pointing their dad down the hall, Sandra led the boys up the stairs with Dean staying between the two at all times.

"Here we are."

Dean looked around the small room. It looked like a lot of the hotel rooms he stayed in growing up, just no bathroom or kitchenette. Two twin beds were sitting in the corners with a nightstand between them. Across the room, a large dresser was pressed against the wall next to a small closet. While Sam dropped his bag on the bed farthest from the door, Dean turned to check the windows.

"These locks don't work." He frowned.

"Dean, we're on the second floor and there is no ledge." Sandra reasoned. "Nothing is going to come through the window."

That's what you think, Dean thought, putting his duffel on the other bed and looked at Sandra who had not moved from the doorway.

"Do you need something?"

"Um, no." Sandra said, backing out the door. "I'll go check on dinner."

**~~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

As soon as the door closed, Dean pulled a canister from his bag and started laying salt lines around the perimeter of the room.

"Don't you think you should save some of that for the rest of the doors and windows?"

"Not taking any chances sugar-bell."

"Sugar-bell? When did I become a debutant?"

Dean shot him a puzzled look.

"Never mind." Sam grumbled, reaching for the doorknob.

"Whoa, where are you going?"

"Downstairs … why?"

"But she's downstairs."

"Yeah, so is Dad."

"Just wait for me, love. I'll be done in a minute."

Rolling his eyes, Sam headed to the living room plopping down on the couch next to where John was reading a book on psychic powers.

"I think Dean is getting worse."

"Why do you say that?"

Before Sam could respond, Dean came running into the room, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw them.

"I told you to wait for me, Sweet-pea. Do you realize what could have happened?"

"I was alone for ten seconds."

"It only takes one for a ghost to grab you."

"What ghost?"

"We wouldn't know, would we?"

Sam turned to stared at his dad who was watching Dean intently.

"Dean, do you have reason to believe this place is haunted?"

Instantly the panicked look in Dean's eyes left and he turned his frustrated gaze to his dad.

"No, I don't. But for some reason I can't stop thinking that he is in trouble."

"When did this start?"

"Just about the time we got to the hotel."

John frowned, but didn't get a chance to respond, because Sandra chose that moment to come in.

"Dinner's ready." She announced with a smile. "I thought we might try something different tonight."

"No tofu?" Sam asked hopefully.

"No tofu." Sandra confirmed, leading them into the dining room.

Well, at least it wasn't imitation meat, Sam thought as he took his seat between his dad and brother. But when his plate was set in front of him he had second thoughts.

"Lady," Dean looked at his meal in disgust, "what vendetta do you have against real food?"

"Dean, use your manners."

"Okay … please tell me what vendetta you have against real food."

Sam snickered, pushing the rolls to the far side of his plate.

"Sam, eat your dinner."

"He doesn't have to eat this crap if he doesn't want to." Dean snapped.

"We do not use that word in this house." Sandra said coolly.

Sam caught the grin on his brother's face and rolled his eyes. Here we go …

"He?"

"No."

"Doesn't?"

"Dean."

"Have?"

"You know what I mean."

"To?"

"John."

"Eat?"

"Dean, knock it off."

Dean fell silent and pushed his own rolls to the side of his plate.

"Come on," Sandra sighed. "How do you know you won't like it if you don't try it?"

"Lady, I don't even know what IT is."

"They're spinach filled fish rolls."

Sam glanced down at the white and green dish, wishing they were back in the hotel with a trash can handy. They were going to starve in this house.

**~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

John closed his book and rubbed his eyes. Whatever control the girls had on them didn't appear to be psychic. One checked off of the long list of possible explanations. Frustrated, John threw the book across the room. This was taking way too long. He had to find a way to cut them off before he and Dean completely lost it. A knock on the door made him instinctively reaching for his gun.

"Dad?"

He relaxed when the boys came in.

"Hey Dad, where are your keys?"Dean asked. "Sam said I can take the Impala on a food run."

"Sam said?" John raised his eyebrow at his youngest.

"You said that it was mine until the hunt was over." Sam pointed out.

Unbelievable, John thought to himself, a classic car in great condition ... and a twelve year old buys it for ten bucks. Pulling out his keys, he tossed them to his oldest.

"Bring me back a burger."

"You're allowed to eat non-Sandra food?" Dean wondered.

"We ate the rice and salads." John shrugged. "That seems like enough."

"Dad, you have GOT to talk to Sandra." Sam said seriously. "Who knows how long we can keep this up?"

Unsure if he even could, John just gave them a nod. Hearing Sandra coming, the boys slipped out the side door just as before she knocked.

"John?"

"Come in." He grunted.

Noticing the book laying by the wall, John wondered if he should pick up or hide it. Too late Sandra was already in the room.

"John, I'm worried about the boys."

Great, now what she going to do?

"Sam barely speaks to me and Dean … well, you know how he is." Sandra sighed. "What can I do to make them more comfortable around me?"

As much as he wanted to say "get out of our lives", his mouth refused to form the words.

"Do you think if I spent more time with them things would get better?"

"No."

"Well, I agree that is the wrong way to go about it with Dean, but maybe-"

"No." John stated firmly.

No way was he going to let her spend time with Sam, not if he could help it.

"You know John, sometimes it seems like you don't even like me." Sandra pouted.

D*&%^ it! The first thing he WANTS to say yes to and he is physically incapable of doing it.

"You could at least say it's not true." She scowled. "I mean I know that's not, because if it was you wouldn't have agreed to come and stay here."

John just continued to glare, thinking of all the thing he would say as soon as he broke her control.

"Anyway, we are out of milk, so I have to run to the store. Do you need anything?"

"Real food for the boys."

"Honestly, John, growing boys need nourishment."

"Growing boys need to eat."

"They ate the tofu."

"They eat burgers and fries."

"Okay," Sandra sighed, putting her hand on the forehead, "let's find a middle ground. I'll buy lean meats. Do they have anything against chicken and fish? I also have a recipe for turkey ratatouille."

"I can't see the boys eating anything with 'rat' in the name."

Sandra let out a frustrated sigh; bringing her hand down with a glare.

"Look, all I wanted to do was offer a healthy alternative. I can always try other recipes."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

With a final huff, Sandra slammed the door behind her.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam woke in the dark to a scraping sound. Instantly alert, he sat up to see his brother pushing the dresser along the wall.

"Dean?"

"Go back to sleep Gumdrop."

"What the h*&% are you doing?"

"I'm fortifying the room."

"With feng shui?"

Sam kicked off his blankets and walked toward Dean.

"Be careful, dearest, some of the paint is still wet."

He looked down and groaned.

"You painted a devil's trap on the floor?"

"Ceiling too." Dean maneuvered the piece of furniture toward the door. "You can never be too careful."

"Um, yeah, I think this is proof you CAN."

Shivering as a breeze ruffled his t-shirt, Sam looked at the open window.

"Um … Dean?"

"You didn't think I was going to let you breath paint fumes in your sleep did you?"

"I didn't think you would be PAINTING while I was asleep."

"When it comes to your safety, dumpling, there is no sleep."

"Dean … that doesn't even make any sense!"

"It doesn't have too."

Dean finished his task of blocking the door before he checked he devils trap for any breaks.

"So … what exactly will a dresser keep out?"

"The wicked witch of down the hall."

Pausing for a second, he and turned around.

"I'm going back to bed."

"Oh, pumpkin, could you wait a minute?"

Sam turned around to see Dean pull a can of spray paint out of his bag.

"Dean ..." He groaned.

"Hey, do you want dream-walkers invading your head?"

"You going to keep the Sandman out too?"

"I would if he was real, muffin." Dean climbed onto Sam's bed and quickly finished the symbol. "Well I'm up here ..."

Before Sam could stop him, Dean painted a two more sigals on the wall running the length of Sam's bed before jumping down.

"You done?"

"With this area." Dean answered tossing the paint-can on his bed and pulled back his brother's blankets.

Shrugging him off, Sam climbed back in bed. To his horror, Dean tucked the blankets snugly around him to the point he could barely move.

"Would you like an extra blanket?"

"No."

"Okay. Good night, Dearest." He planted a kiss in the middle of Sam's forehead. "I love you."

Sam stared at his older brother, shifting under the quilt.

"Dean … this is really starting to freak me out."

"You and me both, Lambkin."

* * *

Majeeda sighed when she saw her client seated in the waiting area, toying with the idea of draining enough life force that SHE would be the one sleeping until noon. Taking a deep breath and plastering in her best smile, the itch slipped through the beaded curtain.

"Good evening, my dear."

Sandra looked up, wringing her hands in distress. Crap.

"What's wrong?" Majeeda said gently, sitting down beside her.

"It's John … he … he hates my cooking."

"You want him to like your cooking?"

While Majeeda tried to remember the spell for altering taste, Sandra shook her head.

"It's not just that," She admitted, "my dishes are quite different from what they normally eat."

"Then what is it?"

"It's … well, it's more the way he said it. I mean, I know there is a warm, caring, and gentle soul in there somewhere. He just … has trouble showing it, that's all."

Why did she have the feeling John would be the death of her? Majeeda led her client to the back room and took her seat across from the woman, resting her elbows on the table.

"So, what would you like him to do?" She asked, placing her chin on her interlaced fingers. "Be more gentler? Be more caring?"

Sandra sighed, fiddling with the edge of the table cloth.

"I don't know. I mean, I know he cares. If you could only see him with those boys …" she trailed off, a small smile on her face. "He is a wonderful father … but it wouldn't kill him to be a little more stern with them."

"So you want him have a firm hand with his sons?"

"I don't know, they are fairly well behaved … or Sam is anyway."

"So what WOULD you like?"

Please, just make up your mind already, Majeeda thought, reminding herself that strangling clients only deprived her of much needed life force.

"I wish …" Sandra paused, "I wish he would be more open with me."

* * *

That can't be good.

My editor has the next part and only one week left in this term, so hopefully it wil;l be up REALLY soon.

In the meantime, I would LOVE to know what you think. :)


	13. Chapter 13

I am REALLY sorry about the huge delay with this story. You see, as I said in "Firstborn" chapter 11, my editor has been really busy for a long time. Not wanting to pester her, or keep you waiting even longer, I have decided to just publish the un-edited chapters. (I hope you can forgive the flawes.)

Enjoy ...

**

* * *

Chapter 13**

Dean relaxed against his pillows, listening to the sounds of early morning, since fear for Sam had kept him from truly sleeping. He sat up at the sound of soft footfalls coming down the hall and stopping right outside their room. Jumping out of bed, Dean grabbed the gun from under his pillow just as the doorknob turned. Crossing the floor in seconds, he got ready for whatever was coming. After a few shoves, coupled with a lot of muttering, a large form pushed his way into the room. When Dean saw the shadow take a step towards his brother a strong feeling came over him and it took everything he had not to shoot the guy on the spot. Cocking the gun, he held it so the barrel hovered behind the intruder's neck.

"Put it away Dean."

As suddenly as it came, the feeling passed and Dean flipped the safety on.

"D*^$ it Dad," He sighed, "not a good time to sneak in our room."

"I noticed."

The lamp switched on and Sam sat up rubbing his eyes.

"Dad?" He yawned, "What's going on?"

John opened his mouth to answer and was cut off by a shrill scream. Instantly, Dean raised the gun at the woman in the doorway, if possible her eyes grew wider.

"DEAN? Where did you get that gun?"

Dean contemplated shooting her, but there was no way they could get rid of the body before the cops showed up. As he lowered the gun, his eyes darted between Sandra and Sam, really hating the fact that she now stood between him and his brother.

"Well?" She prompted.

"We broke into this weapons depot-"

"The gun is mine." John interrupted his oldest.

"And you gave it to HIM? But he's just a kid!"

"He's sixteen," Sam scowled, "he knows how to use a gun."

"Hon, a sixteen year old should not have a gun, it's illegal."

Dean was about to remind her what his brother's name was, when John held out his hand.

"Give me the gun."

"Dad …"

"Just give me the darn gun." He growled.

Glaring at Sandra, Dean handed over the weapon, taking comfort in the fact that he had another handgun, two rifles, and four hunting knives hidden around the room.

"Now, would you mind telling me what EXACTLY did you do to this room?"

Dean looked around at the symbols spray painted on the walls and the salt line that circled the perimeter.

"Just thought I would redecorate," he shrugged, "you know, make the room my own."

"There is a pentagram by the window."

"So?"

She stared at him for a second before turning to John.

"Please tell me you are going to do something about this."

The moment her back was turned, Dean hurried back to his proper place … right between her and Sam.

"I'll talk to him." John muttered.

"Good." Sandra nodded. "So … what are you even doing up?"

"The boys were going to go for a run." John answered.

"You're not serious." Sandra gaped.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Sandra looked their way and back at John.

"They can't go out NOW, it's FIVE in the MORNING!"

"They'll be fine."

"John, be reasonable." Sandra sighed. "I mean, I understand Dean going, but Sam needs his sleep."

He could almost hear the smirk come from behind him as that familiar look entered his dad's eyes.

Dean leaned against a tree to take a rest, enjoying the cool water that Sandra insisted he bring with him. Glanced up at the pink horizon, he figured it was about time to head back, but no sooner had he turned then a voice called out to him.

"Dean?"

Crap, he thought, uprooting the closest weed. Doreen jogged up to him wearing black work out pants and a gray t-shirt, her hair pulled back to form a frizzy, brown, knot.

"Didn't know you liked early morning runs." She smiled.

Dean just shrugged and turned to head back to Sandra's house.

"Hold on, there is something I wanted to ask you about." she said, catching him by the arm. "You see, I heard about this relationship workshop for teens. Teaches communication skills and trust."

This didn't sound good.

"I was thinking … you want to go with me?"

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

John poured himself a cup of coffee, reading a six month old article on a twenty something dieing of a heart attack. Sam stumbled in, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Morning."

John grunted a response, glancing up when Sam started searching the cupboards. Setting down his research, John retrieved a bowl and box of cereal from the top shelf.

"Thanks." Sam muttered, grabbing a spoon and the milk

"Good morning, Sam." Sandra said cheerfully, coming in from the back yard. "You sleep well?"

"Fine."

"Um … Sam … what are you eating?"

"Food." He mumbled, milk dripping down his chin.

John smirked, taking a sip of his coffee, while Sandra scowled and handed Sam a napkin.

"Lucky Charms are not a proper breakfast."

"So?"

"You sound just like your brother."

"Thanks."

For a second it looked as if Sandra was going to exert her control again, but instead she sighed and turned to John.

"I'm going out for a while, do you need anything?"

"No." John answered, returning his attention to the paper.

"Alright, call me if you change your mind."

Just as he heard the car pulling out, the front door slammed and Dean burst in with a wide grin on his face.

"You look happy" John commented.

"I just ran into Doreen."

"And that makes you HAPPY?" Sam gave him a puzzled look.

"She asked me to do some kind of teen couples therapy crap." His smile widened. "I said no."

"Really?" John set down his mug.

"It was GREAT." Dean glanced at Sam and grabbed a hairbrush from the table. "Do you think her control is slipping?"

He reached out to brush his brother's hair causing Sam to duck and cover.

"It that's true, we may have a bigger problem here." John took another sip of his coffee.

Dean tossed the hairbrush back on the table with a glare.

"Well then, how did I say no?"

"More importantly," Sam sat up, "why do they want you to treat me like I'm a three year old girl?"

"You REALLY want me to answer that, dumpling?" Dean smirked.

Sam threw a handful of cereal at his brother.

"Shut up, Jerk."

"Buttercup."

**~~~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam gave his cucumber sandwich and strawberries a skeptical look. Looks like Sandra thought lunch at school included high tea with the queen. At least it was better then some of the meals she had experimented with over the weekend. He never knew how many dishes could be made with butternut squash and eggplant.

"Hi Sam."

He looked up to see Doreen take the seat across from him.

"Um … hi … what are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to ask you something."

"It couldn't wait until after school?"

"I wanted to ask you when Dean wasn't around."

"Why?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Well … I'm worried about him." she admitted. "I saw him on Saturday morning and asked him to do I workshop with me, but he didn't want to."

"That worries you?"

"It's not that … it was the fact he very happily said 'no' fourteen times before running away, grinning. Is he under some kind of stress?"

Sam bit back a laugh. He could understand how seeing Dean like that would make you want to call the men with the white coats.

"This isn't funny Sam, I think something may be wrong with your brother."

She looked so sincere in her concern, but at the same time was the main cause of his problems. Was she even aware of what she was doing to him?

"Dean's fine."

"Are you sure? I mean, has he mentioned anything to you?"

You mean BESIDES the fact you are controlling his life and slowly driving him insane? He was spared an answer when the topic of their discussion appear right behind him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dean demanded, glaring at Doreen.

"We were just talking."

"And now you're leaving."

"But-"

"Now Doreen."

Sam could almost feel how tense his brother was. Looks like the protective streak was immune to her control. Doreen shot him a look filled with anger, confusion, and pain before get up and hurrying across to the high school.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

"I'm fine, and you aren't suppose to talk to me at school."

"I know, dear, I just came by to give you these."

"What's this?" Sam asked, talking the notebook.

"Kindling, hopefully." Dean grimaced.

Flipping through the pages, his horror grew.

"You wrote poetry … about ME?"

"Not like I wanted to, honey."

"Just burn the d^%& thing." Sam tried to hand the notebook back, but Dean kept his hands in his pockets

"Wish I could, but I had to give them to you."

Sam close the book of bad writing and dropped it on the table. This was so wrong.

"I'll burn it later."

"Thanks." Dean's eyes swept the area. "Run into any trouble, dearest?"

"Not unless you count the zombie parrot in my biology class."

Dean gave him a very serious expression, making Sam wonder it he should have phrased that differently.

"Zombie? There is a zombie at this school?"

Yup, different wording would have been better.

"Dean, relax. It's Berryville, not the pet cemetery."

"But you said it was a zombie."

"Dude, I was exaggerating." Sam groaned. "The thing is like a hundred years old."

"And it did something to you?"

Sam held his tongue, imagining how Mr. McFeathers might become a REAL zombie if Dean found out that the bird had bit him.

"It's nothing," he insisted. "Just forget it."

"Precious?"

"Dean."

He wasn't sure if the puppy dog eyes would work or not, but at this point he was willing to try anything to get his brother to drop it.

"Fine." Dean caved. "See you in English, love."

Sam sighed and turned back to his lunch. Their lives were so screwed up.

**~~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

John stepped into the hotel and paused. Both of his boys were sitting on the couch, calmly watching TV. On the end table, next to Dean, sat a notebook that his oldest was absent mindlessly writing in, while the other table had a large pot with flames coming out of it. When Dean finished a page he would tear it off and hand it over to Sam, who promptly dropped it into the fire. He wasn't sure why Sam was now helping Dean destroy the poetry, but at the moment, he didn't care.

"Got anything yet, Bobby?" He asked, walking around to the table.

"No." He adjusted his worn out ball cap. "To be honest, the whole thing doesn't make a lick of sense."

Had to agree with him there. They had been on the case for almost two weeks and were no closer to solving it then they were when they got here. At least with Bobby staying in the hotel room, they had a place where they could work without Sandra's peppiness and suggestions driving them all up the wall. Without it they might not have made it through the weekend without a homicide.

"Let's recap." John sighed. "What do we know?"

"One, Sandra is a controlling b&%*$." Dean offered, handing another sheet to Sam.

"Two, Doreen thinks I'm a little girl." Sam added, dropping the poetry into the pot.

"Try to stick with the facts." Bobby said.

"Okay … One, Sandra is a controlling-"

"Dean." John warned.

Before Dean could respond, there was a knock at the door. With a sigh, Dean pushed himself up and headed for the bathroom, John right behind him. Turning on the shower to drown out any voices, John leaned against the wall, waiting until it was safe to leave.

"This is humiliating," Dean muttered.

"You rather I let Sandra in?"

"No, but I still don't see why I have to hide too." He grumbled. "Doreen probably doesn't know about this place."

As far as they knew, John thought to himself, but they couldn't take the chance.

"Suck it up, Dean. We'll end this soon."

"He what?"

Majeeda tried to keep the growing hatred she had for this boy out of her voice.

"Well, after he, very gleefully, said no, he got mad at me for talking to his brother." Doreen shook her head. "I'm confused, I thought things were going to get better between me and Dean."

Never in her 465 years had she wanted so badly to kill someone. How was this annoyingly defiant child continuing to stand against her magic? There was no way … wait …

"Aside from saying no, did he do anything else out of the ordinary?"

"Um … I think I heard him call his brother sweetheart."

His brother? The most important person in his life was his BROTHER? Why did HER client have to find the ONE unselfish teenage boy on the planet and make THAT wish? Of course, Doreen wasn't all to blame. If she had attached the spell to Doreen and not "the most important person in Dean's life" she wouldn't have had a problem. But since she strengthened it, she was really in a bind. The only way to undo the spell was to sever the bond between Dean and Doreen and then she would have to redo the whole thing. The required energy alone would drain her for a week.

"Madam Majeeda?" Doreen's voice was timid. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, dear I was just thinking."

There was one thing she could try that wouldn't take as much power. Assuming that Doreen was now the second most important person in the boy's life, she may be able to transfer the spell. She had to be careful so she wouldn't attract hunters, and she would only have one shot at it, but it was the best chance she had.

"Don't worry," she smiled, "you'll be on the top of his list in no time."

Right after she removed the brother from the picture.

* * *

Alright, I hope you all liked this part. I have the next two chapters ready, all they need is a few minor touchs. (So, expect them tomorrow.)

In the meantime, I would love to hear from you. :)


	14. Chapter 14

As promised, here is the next part ...

**

* * *

Chapter 14**

Sam rummaged through his backpack with growing frustration. He knew he had the thing at Sandra's house on Friday, but was sure he had brought it back to the hotel over the weekend. After practically tearing the room apart, Sam still came up empty.

"Dean, have you seen my calculator?"

"Can't say I have, lamb-chop." He answered, without looking up from the half cleaned rifle in his hands.

"I need it for my math test tomorrow." Sam whined, tossing his bag aside. "Isn't your ultra helpful mode supposed to kick in about now?"

Dean gave him a serious look, reminding Sam how much he missed the way his brother used to act.

"Dearest, your safety comes first. The calculator isn't going to hurt you, but something else might if we aren't ready." Nodding in the direction of a duffel, Dean returned his focus to the rifle. "Look in there."

Sam unzipped the bag, digging past all the other electronics his dad used from time to time. After retrieving his calculator from the bottom of the bag, Sam uncovered something else of interest.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

His look immediately darken when he saw the camcorder in Sam's hands.

"What are you doing?" He spat.

Sam was stunned at the sudden change of behavior.

"I … I was just-"

"Just nothing!" Dean stood, towering over Sam, the rifle held tightly in his hands. "My life is being manipulated and all you want to do is mess around?"

"Dean I-"

"Shut the h&%^ up you selfish little b&s%a$d!"

He shoved Sam hard, knocking him against the wall, causing him to drop the camcorder.

"I'm sorry … I-"

Dean raised the gun like a club, a dark fury in his eyes.

"So, you still want to talk?" He sneered. "Fine. Let's talk …"

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~John's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~**

John tightened his grip on the steering wheel, glaring to the road ahead of him. Another dead end.

"Relax, John." Bobby said, looking over an old tome. "The answer has got to be here somewhere."

"It better." He muttered, pulling up to the motel.

This was the last book in Ridley's store that might have answer to what was going on. If this one turned out to be like the last four-

"Do you hear that?" Bobby asked.

Reflexes took over and the next thing he knew, John was breaking down the hotel room door.

"Dad?" Dean gave him a puzzled look.

John looked at his son, taking in the busted knuckles and blood splattered rifle in his hands.

"What the heck happened in here?" John demanded. "Where's Sam?"

Dean glanced around, confusion turning to fear.

"I … I don't know."

"Dean, we heard you yelling." Bobby stated. "Did something break in?"

"I don't know Bobby. I was just …" He trail off, his gaze sweeping the room.

"Dean." John snapped, bring his focus back to him. "What. Happened."

Closing his eyes and talking a deep breath, Dean began.

"I was cleaning guns … Sam was looking for his calculator … then … you were here. That's all I remember."

John looked around at the room. A lamp was broken by the door, couch cushions knocked on the floor, books and papers scattered … and a blood trail to the bathroom. Moving past Dean, John ran a hand down the cracks and dents in the bathroom door.

"Sam." He called.

Getting no answer, he shattered the weakened door with one strong kick. The room was empty, aside from some blood leading to a small open window. Without a word, John circled around the back of the building, but the lost the trail when it went under a tall fence into a construction zone.

"You find him?" Dean asked, as soon as John was back in the room.

He shook his head, before noticing Bobby hooking something up to the TV.

"Bobby?"

"We found a camcorder on the floor." The other hunter answered. "Hopefully, it will tell us what happened."

Dean and Bobby took a seat on the couch, while John stood beside his son. After a few seconds of a blue screen, Sam's face appeared as he fiddled with the camera and turned it to show Dean cleaning the rifle.

"_Hey Dean?"_

"_Yes sweetie?"_

John's mood darkened as he watched the change come over his oldest, clenching his jaw when he saw Dean raise up the rifle and bringing it down on Sam's shoulder, causing the younger boy to cry out in pain.

"_Whiny … little … punk." Dean emphasized each word with a fist to the face._

"_Dean please." Sam begged, tears forming in his eyes._

"_You're so pathetic," Dean scoffed, kicking his brother in the ribs. "why does Dad even keep you around. Not like you are worth anything on the hunt anyway."_

"_Dean-"_

"_Shut up!"_

Dean grabbed Sam's arm, throwing him off screen. They couldn't see what happened next, but the verbal abuse and sounds of the attack painted a pretty clear picture.

"… _you worthless piece of trash … you're nothing but trouble … I wish Dad would just drop you off somewhere and never look back … pathetic baby … all you do is hold us back … you are nothing to me …"_

John saw Dean's grip tightening around the rifle and could only imagine what was going through his son's head right now. His attention was brought back to the screen when a bruised and bloody Sam was crawling towards the safety of the bathroom.

"_Hang on twerp," Dean grabbed his ankle, pulling him away from the door. "We aren't done talking yet."_

Sam fought back, kicking out with his free leg, his hands searching for something to defend himself. Managing to get a hold of the lamp cord, Sam threw the small ceramic object in Dean's direction. He ducked, letting go of Sam's leg, and the younger boy scrambled back toward the bathroom.

"_You b*s#a%d!" Dean seethed, tackling his younger brother to the ground and raining punches all over his small body. _

"_Stop … Dean … please." Sam sobbed, curling up into a ball._

"_You gonna cry now? … stupid baby … worthless piece of s^$&% ... I wish you had died that night and not Mom!"_

Dean stopped his attack, moving off screen, and Sam reached up and opened the bathroom door.

"_Oh no you don't!"_

Dean appeared quickly, the rifle back in his hands, but he was too late to stop Sam from locking himself inside. Banging the rifle against the door, Dean continued to scream at Sam.

"… _open the d$%& door you little s^%&! … I'm gonna kill you, you b#s*a$d! … you worthless piece of trash … open up NOW! …"_

Suddenly a crash caused Dean to turn around and he was back to normal.

"_Dad?"_

While Bobby stopped the tape, Dean just stared at the blood on the rifle.

"Dean?"

He looked up, guilt and rage burning in his eyes.

"I'm gonna kill her."

**~~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean slammed his battered fist into a tree. Sam was out there, hurt and scared, and now even the freaking weather was turning against them. Looking up into the dark rain clouds and howling wind he decided that, as soon as they got out of this town, he was hunting down lady luck and all three fates for all the crap they put his family through.

"Any luck?" Bobby asked, climbing out of his truck.

"No." Dean growled.

"Your dad's at Sandra's in case he goes that way."

"Why the h%&^ would he go there?"

"Where else would he go?" Bobby shrugged. "We've looked everywhere."

If they looked everywhere they would have found him by now, Dean thought bitterly. His guilt and fear were growing stronger every minute Sam was gone, slowly overpowering his rage. But a sight across the street switched them around in a heartbeat.

"Dean!" Bobby shouted after him.

He ignored him, focusing on the the three girls coming out of a small store. Their laughter stopped when they saw him coming.

"Dean?" Doreen looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

What's wrong? She was tearing his life apart and dared to ask him what was wrong! Unfortunately, her control was still in effect, making him unable to hit, cuss out, or shoot her.

"Leave Sam alone." He growled.

"Why would I do something to Sam?" Her eyes grew wide.

"I don't know, but if you hurt him again I'll …"

Unable to say anymore, he let his glare do the talking.

"Again?" Her confusion turned to sadness. "Did something happen to him? Is he alright?"

Dean just continued to stare at her, guilt and fear mingling with the anger. It must have been quite a sight based on the way Bridget and Leah took a step back, just about the time realization hit Doreen.

"Dean, you can't think … I would never do anything to Sam!" She looked as if she was about to cry. "He's a sweetheart, why would I hurt him?"

He darkened his glare. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but he knew she was responsible for what happened to Sammy … and she was going to pay.

"Dean, please believe me." Doreen sobbed. "I would never do that."

"Dean." He felt Bobby's firm grip on his shoulder. "Let's go."

The older hunter pulled him away, not letting go until they were in his truck.

"What'd you stop me for, Bobby?" Dean vented as soon as they were on the road.

"Are you blind, ya idjit?" Bobby muttered, heading back towards Sandra's. "That girl wasn't faking."

"You sure?"

"No one is THAT good."

Dean thought back to the look Doreen had given him. A lot of emotion had been there; fear, sadness, shock …

"But that doesn't make any sense," Dean shook his head. "She's been controlling me from the get go. Why regret it now?"

"Maybe she honestly didn't mean to take it this far." Bobby suggested. "A lot of people don't realize how fast things can go south."

Dean thought about all that had happened between him and Doreen.

"Or maybe …" he muttered, staring out into the pouring rain, "she doesn't even know she's doing it."

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam stumbled down the street. His whole body ached, he was soaked to the skin, and he was pretty sure his head was still bleeding. He pulled away the water logged paper towel he had picked up in a gas station bathroom, peering at the red stain and trying to figure out of it had gotten any bigger. Unable to tell, Sam sighed, putting pressure back on the cut above his temple and continued his aimless hike through the darkened streets of Barryville.

He thought about going back to Sandra's but she would freak if she saw him like this. But he couldn't go back to the hotel as long as Dean was there. Tears spilled down his cheeks as his mind replayed every cruel detail.

"_Whiny … pathetic … worthless … nothing … trash …I wish you had died …"_

Each word echoing in his brothers voice, the last phrase driving a knife through his heart. Is that really what Dean thought of him? His head swam and he sank down against a wall, the wet brick scrapping across his bruised back. Letting his arms fall to his sides, Sam sat there staring at the puddles that dotted the street. Maybe he should just stay here, let the others finish the hunt and leave. Maybe it was better that way. He had been so lost in thought, he didn't see the black clad figure walk up until he was kneeling right next to him.

"You okay kid?"

Sam tried to shrug, but it turned into a wince. The man reached down and pulled him to his feet.

"Lets get you out of the rain." The man guided into a dark store.

Sam looked around, his tired mind trying to recognize the familiar setting.

"I got a fire going upstairs," The man offered, leading him to a narrow staircase. "I'll get you some dry clothes and a mug of soup, then we can take a look at that head of yours, what do you say?"

Still trying to remember where he was, Sam just nodded.

"Good." The man smiled. "Your name's Sam, right?"

Again Sam nodded, as they reached a wooden door with a strange symbol carved into it.

"I'm Simon."

**RAR*RAR*RAR*RAR**

"I can't stay long, Madam Majeeda," Sandra said quickly, sitting across the table. "there's something wrong at home."

Majeeda frowned. Only an hour after working out a complicated spell on Dean, she did NOT want any trouble with John tonight.

"Oh dear, I hope it's nothing too serious."

"That's just it." Sandra vented. "John won't tell me."

Great, Majeeda thought to herself, looks like he's fighting the last spell.

"Well, he told me something," she admitted, "but I have a feeling he was lying."

Oops, her fault. Making a guy a talk doesn't always mean he will tell the truth.

"What did he say?"

"He said the boys had an argument and where at the hotel with their uncle Bobby."

"Why would he be lying?"

"Because he has been making excuses for him and the boys to be at the hotel all weekend. It's almost like he doesn't want to spend time with me."

Cleaver John, very cleaver. Only a few of the spells effect him when he is not around Sandra … could he know … she shook the thought from her head and focused on her client.

"I'm sure that is not the reason." Majeeda soothed.

"I just," Sandra sighed, "I wish he would tell me the truth."

Now THAT, Majeeda thought with a smile, she could easily do.

* * *

I know, I can be evil sometimes. ;)

Let me know what you think and I'll get the next chapter up asap.

BTW, I added a transition before Majeeda's part so as not confuse anyone.


	15. Chapter 15

Here is the next part. I hope you enjoy it ...

**

* * *

Chapter 15**

John paced the living room like a caged tiger, waiting for Bobby to get back with Dean. He wasn't sure if Sam would come back to Sandra's house or not, but he didn't want her to be the first one to find him if he did. The sound of a car engine caught his attention.

"Just great." John muttered.

"John!" Sandra called from the back, "where are you?"

"Living room." He answered before he could stop himself.

A whole string of colorful words ran through his head as John realized what had just happened.

"Have the boys come back yet?" She asked, laying her coat on a chair.

"No."

"John," she sighed, "would you just tell me what happened?"

Try as he may, he couldn't fight her control.

"Sam ran away."

"What?" Her eyes grew wide.

Before she could ask anymore questions, John heard Bobby's truck pull up and he made a beeline for the front door. Before was halfway there, Dean burst inside, the look on his face begging his dad for good news. John just shook his head and his son's shoulders drooped slightly.

"What do you mean Sam ran away?" Sandra gaped.

In a heartbeat, Dean's face turned from guilty to accusing.

"He climbed out the bathroom window at the hotel." John ground out, hoping she wouldn't press him farther.

The LAST thing he needed right now was for Sandra to think Dean was a danger to them. Lucky for him, the phone started to ring, distracting her for a few moments so he could talk to Dean and Bobby. Not knowing how long he had, John cut straight to the point.

"I can't lie to her," he whispered.

Before they could respond, Sandra called out to him.

"John," her hesitation clear, "Simon Ridley is on the phone for you."

He shot her a puzzled look, but she just shrugged.

"I told him it was a bad time, but he said it was urgent."

Taking the handset, all he could think was he didn't have time for this.

"What?" He growled.

"Mr. Winchester?" Ridley said calmly. "I found your son …"

**~~~~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam squirmed as the unfamiliar hands probed at his throbbing head.

"Sam," Simon sighed, "try to stay still, I'm almost done."

Wincing as the antiseptic went to work, Sam fiddled with the hem of the worn out t-shirt Simon had given him with a pair of drawstring shorts.

"You a Spurs fan?" Simon asked, while Sam studied the shirt's logo.

"No." He answered quietly.

"Me either." Simon admitted, taping a piece of gauze over the cut.

"Then why do you have the shirt?"

Simon's eyes grew sad and he turned away to dig in the first aid kit.

"It … uh … it was my brother's." His voice soft. "His lucky shirt … he forgot it when-"

Sam looked up when he cut off, and watched Simon control his emotions.

"Anyway, finish you soup, I've got to go finish counting out the till."

Without giving Sam a chance to respond, Simon slipped out through the wooden door.

Sipping the thin chowder, Sam wandered around the small living room. Pictures lined the mantel, with three portraits in the middle. The one on the right was a woman, in her forties, with golden hair and bright blue eyes. On the left was an older man, with silver hair and a kind smile. In the center was another man, in his early thirties, with cropped brown hair and the same gray eyes as the older one. He was about to move on, when something behind the middle picture caught his eye.

"Love You Forever." Sam read, pulling out the thin book.

Curious to why there was a children's book above a grown man's fireplace, Sam flipped open the cover and found two inscriptions.

"_Christmas 1986, To my dear Willy, I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be. Love Mom."_

Sam scanned down from the flowing script to the messy note, scribbled in the opposite corner.

"_Christmas 1988, Si, I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my brother you'll be. Wil."_

His brother. Sam's eyes filled with tears, thinking that his brother would never willfully say or do anything like that for him. Sinking down onto the couch, Sam was startled when the tv switched on, showing the image of a party.

"_Hey Si," a voice called from behind the camera, "happy birthday, dude."_

"_Thanks Donny." Simon smiled._

He looked so different, and not just younger. The haunted look in his eyes was replace with life and laughter. Memories of better times.

"_Attention!" Someone yelled, and Sam could almost hear Simon's groan. "Can I have everyone's attention please."_

The camera swiveled around to show the man from the photo standing with a large box at his feet.

"_Thank you. Now today is a very good day for me … it's the day Si can finally start buying his own beer."_

The crowd laughed, while the speaker received glares from both Simon and the silver haired man.

"_Seriously though," he continued, opening the box , "these last twenty-one years have just been incredible for me and I would just like to share with you scenes of Si's life."_

Reaching into the box, he pulled out a large square of blue cloth.

"_Ladies and gentleman I give you …" he held up the item, "the blankie." _

Simon turned red at the amused reaction of the group, snatching the blanket from the man's hands.

"_Knock it off, Wil."_

"_Come on Si, I can't stop now." he grinned. "I have a whole box of memories to share."_

"_Like Mexico?" Simon threatened with a smirk._

"_You weren't even there."_

"_Doesn't mean I don't have pictures."_

Wil opened his mouth to speak, but the silver haired man beat him to it.

"_William." He barked, sounding a lot like John. "It's his birthday, leave your brother alone."_

Hanging his head in defeat, Wil sighed and closed up the box.

"_You're right Dad, I promise I will be nothing but nice to him for …" he glanced at his watch, "seven hours, twelve minutes, and fifteen seconds. We can finish this at midnight."_

"_Great." Simon smiled, turning to his dad. "Can I borrow your golf clubs at 11:59?"_

He just smiled and shook his head at their banter.

"_You two will be the death of me."_

The image froze on the smiling faces of the three men and Sam turned to see Simon holding the remote, his face expressionless.

"I-I'm sorry." Sam looked to the ground. "I didn't mean to start it."

"Not your fault." Simon said quietly. "I left it going. You just turned on the tv."

Simon reached down, grabbing the other remote from next to Sam's elbow, and switched off the screen.

"They seem … nice."

"They were the best." Simon whispered, looking up at Sam with a small smile. "You have a pretty great family yourself."

Sam bit his lower lip, dropping his gaze to his feet. The memories of Dean's attack came flooding back, bringing with them a wave of emotion.

"Sam?"

Wiping away his tears, Sam looked into a pair of concerned gray eyes.

"Your family loves you." He stated confidently. "You know that, right?"

He thought he did, but after tonight …

"Look Sam," Simon started, "I don't know what happened tonight, but I know what kinds of people your family are. Your dad is strong and firm, doesn't take crap from anyone, and would kill for his kids. Your brother is a smart-alec teenager with a thing for girls and fast cars, but pity the one who crosses him or his family. To outsiders, they may seem rough or cold, but they're not … not really."

"How do you know about my family?" Sam stared at Simon.

"I've learned to pay attention." Simon answered. "It helps that they're just like…"

When he cut off again, Sam decided to change the subject. Glancing up at the pictures on the mantel, he remembered the woman was not at the party.

"Who is she?"

"My mom." Simon walked over, picking the right portrait up. "She died in a car accident when I was seventeen."

"My mom died too."

He wasn't sure why he told him, but he felt he had to say something.

"It's hard to loose someone." Simon replaced the picture. "But it's nothing compared to loosing everyone."

**~~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean leaned against the front seat of the Impala as if it would push the car faster. Sam was at Simon Ridley's? The guy who may or may not have killed his family? The guy who everyone was afraid of and might be into black magic? His over-protectiveness was going through the roof, but it still seemed to climb every second. He had to get to Sam, had to know he was okay … had to ask for his forgiveness.

As soon as they pulled up to the darkened storefront, Dean leaped from the car and ran around to the service entrance. Pressing the bell, he was just wondering if he should try picking the lock when the door swung open and he came face to face with Simon Ridley.

"Where's my brother?" He demanded.

"Upstairs." He answered, pointing to a staircase and stepping back.

Dean bolted past him, taking the stairs two at a time, but froze when he reached the wooden door. How would Sam react to seeing him after what happened? Would he even want to? Taking a deep breath, Dean slowly pushed open the door. Sam was sitting on the couch, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts that went just past his knees, with a book spread across his lap. But Dean couldn't get over all the cuts and bruises that covered his face and peeked out from under the borrowed shirt. A piece of gauze was taped to his head and a couple more bandages were placed over any larger cuts. All in all, his brother was a mess … and it was his fault.

"Dean?"

He almost didn't hear the tentative whisper that broke him from his thoughts. Looking into Sam's fear filled eyes, he had to stop himself from racing towards him, knowing that it would only scare him more.

"Dearest … I am SO sorry … I never meant to … I wasn't … I'm sorry."

Dean could feel the tears forming in his own eyes, mentally cursing the power that made him unable to control his emotions. For a moment neither moved, both watching the other, before Sam looked past him.

"Dad?"

Touching Dean's shoulder as he passed, John went over to Sam, immediately checking over his injuries.

"You okay?"

"Yes sir."

John nodded and finished his examination before glancing up at the corner Simon had retreated to.

"Thanks."

"Glad I could help." The man smiled for the first time Dean had seen, and slipped into the other room.

"What happened, Dad?" Sam asked, the second he was gone.

Though the question had been directed to John, he was looking at Dean.

"We're not sure." John answered. "But we won't let it happen again."

D&%# straight it wasn't going to happen again. Dean slowly stepped closer to the couch, not wanting to give Sam any reason to run again.

"I'm really sorry, precious. I don't know what came over me."

Sam looked down at the book, picking at the corner.

"So …" he said slowly, "you didn't mean it?"

Unable to hold back anymore, Dean rushed over, knelling in front of his brother so he could stay in his line of sight.

"Oh honey, of course not. You mean the world to me. Everything I did or said … it wasn't me, I swear. I love you, sweetheart, and I could never hurt you like that."

Okay, it was the spell induced mother of all chick flicks, but if it made Sammy feel any better it was worth every second.

"You want some soup or coffee, Dean?"

"No." Dean answered, not taking his eyes off his brother.

Similar reactions from John and Bobby caused Simon to let out a frustrated sigh, mutter something with the word "typical" in it.

"What?" Sam looked up, confused.

"Well, Sam," Simon wore a humorless grin. "It looks like you are the only one who has not heard the rumors, so why don't I fill you in."

Simon walked over to the mantel, picking up one of the smaller framed pictures.

"Last year … I lost my family." He said sadly. "Since no one in this town knows all the facts, people have taken it upon themselves to figure out what happen. From they died in a tragic accident to I sacrificed them to a blood demon, I've heard it all … and no one is even close."

"What did happen?" Sam wondered.

"Official story? Natural causes." Simon snorted, putting the picture back in it's proper place. "Natural."

He shook his head pacing from one end of the small living room to the other, mumbling about small town hicks who don't see what's right in front of them. As he walked, his anger grew and Dean moved between him and Sam, just in case. Suddenly, Simon stopped and turned to them.

"You tell me what is so natural about two healthy men having heart attacks within an hour of each other."

**RAR*RAR*RAR*RAR**

"There there," Majeeda tried to sooth the hysterical teen.

"Why would he think I would hurt Sam?" Doreen sniffed, getting control on her tears. "He is such a sweet kid. Who would ever want to hurt him?"

At least THAT spell worked … wait …

"What is Dean's brother's name?"

"Sam."

It could be a coincidence … or …

"Do you know his father's name?"

"Um … I think it's John. Why?"

"Just curious."

It all made sense now, Dean's stubbornness was hereditary. Good thing she had age restrictions, or else she might have ended up with the whole set.

"So, what do I do?" The teen questioned.

"My dear," Majeeda slipped on a smile. "I'm sure Dean was just upset. I mean, someone hurt his brother. As soon as Sam tells him who it was, he'll know it wasn't you. Don't give up on him yet."

"I don't want to." Doreen sighed. "I REALLY like him. I mean, he's cute, and funny, and such a great brother to Sam … but … I just wish he has nicer to me. That's all."

Majeeda's smiled widened at the easiest request Doreen had given her yet.

"Just give it time," she patted her client's hand. "Things will get better, you'll see."

* * *

So, what do you all think of Simon now?

I'm not quite done with the next chapter, but I'll get it up just as soon as I can.


End file.
